


A Fool's Holiday

by caitastrophe8499



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: And you'll enjoy every damn second of it, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Christmas, Family Issues, It'll be very predictable, YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 59,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28081797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caitastrophe8499/pseuds/caitastrophe8499
Summary: When Sara and Laurel are coerced into going to the Christmas holidays in England with their mother and her family, they both anticipate issues. In order to make life a little easier, they decide to bring some back-up. With Leonard and Mick pretending to be their boyfriends, life with the family gets easier, but everything else gets much more complicated.We all know what this is about. Don't pretend you don't. Just sit back and enjoy the tropes.Merry Christmas.
Relationships: Laurel Lance/Mick Rory, Sara Lance/Leonard Snart
Comments: 223
Kudos: 75





	1. 12 Failed Excuses

Star City was cold this December afternoon. Laurel Lance shivered, wishing she’d grabbed her warmer coat this morning instead of her sweater and rubbed her arms. A man walking up the street alongside her tried to catch her eye, but Laurel quickly looked down to her phone and the man moved on without comment, amazingly. She huffed out a sigh as she looked around again, irritated that Sara was late and making her wait outside on the corner instead of inside the warm restaurant.

Unlocking her phone, her thumb hovered over Sara’s contact, ready to call and yell at Sara if she wasn’t here in -

“Hey!” A petite blonde woman waved as she crossed the street toward her.

Relieved, Laurel put her phone back as her younger sister walked up. She took a moment to look over Sara, the confidence on her shoulders and grin on her face a welcome sight.

When Sara had first left to join the  _ Waverider  _ on their mission to save time, she’d been the darkest version of herself - tired and haunted, believing she could never be a hero. Now, from her stories, Laurel knew that Sara was in a much better place; she was surrounded by people who not only understood her, but cared about her. Though she missed her little sister, Laurel was glad Sara had found a place to belong. She’d even made an effort for their lunch, her red sweater festive enough and dressed up with a gold pendant and earrings, even if the leggings were simple and black and the boots a little dirty.

When she got close enough, Laurel hugged her, glad she still had a few inches over her. Not that Sara couldn’t bring her to the ground in a heartbeat, but she took what little advantage she could. She hugged Laurel back, her grip tight before she pulled back with a crooked and familiar smile.

“Are you actually happy to see me or just glad you don’t have to do this alone?” Sara asked, her eyes dancing.

“A little of both,” Laurel answered, fixing her own darker blonde hair. It was slightly windy this cold afternoon, and she wished she’d brought a hair tie. She’d had to come from work, so she was a bit out of place at the restaurant in her slacks and button-up.

“So,” Sara said with trepidation as they approached the cafe. “Think this is about Grandma?”

Laurel sighed, pulling open the door. “I think so. Mom asked me about my plans, and I told her I had to work.”

“It’s fine,” Sara said. “We’ll just tell her no. As long as we both stay strong, we can get through this. Just like last year.”

“Last year, we both went to Dad,” Laurel reminded her.

Sara’s eyes fell briefly, the loss of Quentin still not healed up in either one of them. “Still, we can get out of this.”

“I hope so,” Laurel murmured as they walked in. Laurel scanned the restaurant, seeing a woman with curly blonde hair sitting at a table, watching the door. As soon as she saw them, Dinah Lance smiled and got to her feet.

“Hello!” Dinah said, hugging both of them tightly. “I’m so glad you could both make it!”

“Hey, Mom,” Sara said, taking a seat after her hug. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m alright,” Dinah said, squeezing Laurel’s hand as they sat down. “How are you? How’s work, Laurel? And Sara, how’s saving time?”

Sara grinned at the casual way Dinah said it, and Laurel laughed, telling them both about her most recent case as district attorney once they ordered their meals. Dinah had a glass of wine with her meal, but Sara stuck with soda and Laurel just got water. Sara regaled them with an exciting tale of hunting down the Loch Ness Monster over appetizers, and Dinah shared some of her students’ most incorrect answers in her college classes over the main dishes.

By the time dessert was cleared away and they were finishing their coffee, Laurel had almost relaxed, hoping that she’d been wrong about her mother’s reason for asking them to meet, but then Dinah sighed.

“So, I heard from your grandmother last week.”

Laurel saw Sara get tense, her blue eyes darting over to meet Laurel’s.

“She mentioned that the whole family is going out to the estate for the holidays again this year, and that she wants us all to come.”

Sara shook her head, as if Laurel needed the hint to say no.

“Look, Mom, I get it, but I’ve got work and -”

“I know my side of the family isn’t exactly welcoming,” Dinah interrupted, her face drawn, “but your grandmother isn’t getting any younger. I’m not sure how much longer she’ll be around.”

Sara shifted in her seat. “The timeline is kind of crazy around the holidays. I don’t think I can make it.”

Dinah folded her hands in front of her and Laurel braced herself. That was never a good sign. “Your grandmother has all but ordered us to come. She’s already sent tickets and isn’t taking no for an answer. I’ve already tried to get out of it.”

“I’ve got plans,” Sara argued.

“You have a time machine,” Dinah countered.

“Time ship,” she corrected under her breath. “And it’s not all that accurate.”

“Mom, I’m in the middle of researching this case -”

“There’s internet in England, dear.”

“I can’t take time off,” Laurel tried.

“Of course you can, you just refuse to.”

“I don’t have gifts for any of them.”

“You can shop when we get there.”

“I’m the captain,” Sara said, “I can’t just -”

“You absolutely can just,” Dinah interrupted.

“The crossover events -”

“You can skip it. She even sent out extra tickets for Ava and Tommy.”

Laurel’s eyes dropped and Sara shifted in her seat. Dinah eyed both of them, her face falling. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Sara said quietly. “It was a few months ago, your time, at least. It’s been longer for me.”

“And Tommy and I parted as friends,” Laurel said. “It’s okay.”

“Well,” Dinah said, still striving forward, “you can bring whoever you’re dating now.”

“Mom, I’m not-”

Laurel interrupted Sara, a last-ditch thought in her head if she had to play it. “I get that you want us to go, Mom, but you know it’s not...enjoyable.”

That was putting it mildly, as everyone at the table was well aware. Sara kept her face impassive, though, as Dinah sighed.

“I know. Family is a terrible burden. But your aunt Deirdre misses you. And you haven’t even met Emmet’s son Lucas. You like them and haven’t seen them in years. Don’t let a few bad apples ruin the rest of the family for you.”

“It’s not just a few,” Laurel said, glancing at Sara, who still looked as if she wasn’t bothered, though Laurel knew better. “The others can be…”

“Assholes,” Sara said bluntly.

“I know,” Dinah repeated. “But your grandmother -”

“Is the worst one,” Sara argued. “I don’t want to see any of them. And most of them don’t want to see me.”

Laurel looked at Sara sympathetically, knowing that, for all their mother tried to argue, Sara was right. Most of her side of the family really had it out for Sara. Laurel had her own issues with particular members, but Sara...

“Look, girls,” Dinah said quietly, “I don’t want to go, either. Especially not this year, not with - with your father being gone.” Dinah took a breath and Laurel looked down. Though Quentin and Dinah had separated, and at the time it had been ambivalent, the two of them had gotten closer since Sara had come back, reconciling enough to be friends. And they had been in love for a long time. His death had been hard on all of them.

“But we have to make sacrifices for family. There are certain members worth knowing and going for.”

“Are there?” Sara muttered. “I really don’t want to go.”

“I really can’t go,” Laurel added.

“Okay. If you really don’t want to or can’t, I understand,” Dinah said quietly. “I’m not going to force you to be miserable over the holidays.”

It was an awkward silence as Dinah paid the bill and the three of them started toward the door. Laurel kept sharing looks with Sara, who shook her head repeatedly.

“When is the flight?” Laurel asked, ignoring Sara’s huff of irritation.

“The 17th,” Dinah said.

“For how long?”

“I’ll fly back on the 26th.”

Less than ten days, surely she could manage that. Laurel ignored Sara’s glare. “I’ll go,” she told her.

Dinah lit up, hugging Laurel tightly. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I’ll arrange for a car to pick you up to bring you to the airport, and if you want to bring whoever you’re seeing, I’m sure it’ll make the trip more bearable. Just give me their name and I’ll have the tickets changed.”

“I’ll let you know if they can make it.” Laurel nodded, unable to keep from glancing at Sara. Dinah followed her gaze.

“You don’t have to go, sweetie,” Dinah said, the tone making it clear she was well aware of how these trips usually went for Sara. “Really, I understand.”

Sara let out an irritated breath. “Well, I can’t let you guys go alone, can I?”

Laurel met her sister’s eyes over Dinah’s shoulder as she hugged her, seeing the conflict beneath her smile.

“I can just fly the  _ Waverider  _ there, though,” Sara tried.

“Absolutely not, I’m not having you skip out in the middle or, slightly more appealing, bring your work back to the estate.”

Sara’s face lit up with that thought, but it faded. “Fine.”

Dinah hugged them both again, a little lighter now. “I’m so grateful, girls. Bring your boyfriend, or girlfriend,” she added only slightly belatedly, “and make a trip out of it.”

“Sure,” Laurel said, drawing Sara’s suspicious gaze.

Dinah waved down a car, and getting in, smiled at both of them. “I’ll see you on the 17th.”

“Bye,” Sara said, waving as their mom got into the cab and it pulled away from the curb, before turning on her sister with a glare. “So much for a united front.”

“I’m sorry, but we couldn’t let her go alone.”

“You couldn’t,” Sara muttered, as if she hadn’t just offered to go as well, then her eyes narrowed. “You’re not seeing anyone now.”

“No.” 

“So why’d you say you’d make a trip out of it?”

Laurel pulled her off to the side. “Why not bring someone?”

“Why, because misery loves company?” Sara said archly.

“No,” Laurel glared, “but we can bring a friend or two. Gives us an excuse to get out of the estate, it’ll distract some of the attention, and you know we’ll both benefit from having someone else there.”

“But it’s just a boyfriend,” Sara reminded her, as if Laurel needed the reminder of how particular their Grandma Ruth could be. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

“So we fake it.”

“You want to bring fake boyfriends?”

“Why not?” Laurel said.

“Because I’m pretty sure Ruth can smell a lie at sixty feet.”

“Then we’ll have to sell it.”

“You, Ms. D.A., want to lie?”

How could she explain it to Sara without sounding like a damsel in distress? She knew that Sara had it worse there, that the family could be truly terrible to her, but though it obviously bothered Sara and she avoided them as much as she could, she almost never let it get to her in front of them. And now, as the captain of her own time ship, what did Sara have to fear from their small-minded family? She was a hero, a time-traveling vigilante with a whole team at her back, who came back from the dead? She wasn’t afraid of anything.

But even though Sara had it worse, it didn’t mean that Laurel had fun. Sara usually avoided everyone, which was understandable, but it left Laurel to face the masses on her own. Having someone to back her up would be a welcome reprieve from the usual.

“Would you rather lie and have a friend as backup, or go and be the center of attention?” Laurel asked.

Sara winced at the thought. “Who’re our lucky stooges, then?”

Laurel paused, thinking. “Ollie and Felicity are too high profile now. Diggle’s got the baby. Ray?”

“Married,” Sara said. “And obnoxiously happy.”

“Cisco?”

“He’s visiting his girlfriend on another Earth for the holidays.”

“And Barry and Iris are out of town,” Laurel said. “What about John Constantine?”

Sara grinned but shook her head. “Fun as that may be, he’s seeing this guy Gary, and I don’t want to mess that up right now. Nate and Zari have to be on  _ Waverider  _ duty. Charlie’s back in her time period. Rip’s gone. Nyssa is out of contact -”

“What about Snart?” Laurel asked, as casually as she could.

Sara glanced at her, and maybe someone not as close wouldn’t have noticed the faint blush on her cheeks. “Len?”

“Why not?” She would have loved to get Sara on the stand and talk about this interesting relationship, but she kept quiet, satisfying herself with small hints and details whenever Sara mentioned the crook in her stories. She knew about the kiss at the Oculus, but also knew that nothing had happened since Leonard had reappeared after the metacrisis thing, even after Sara and Ava had ended things. It was obvious Sara still cared for him, but she also understood her hesitance. Still, if he came and kept the family from ganging up on Sara while also pretending to be her boyfriend, maybe...

“He’s probably busy.”

“You could ask him.”

“He’s definitely got better things to do than help me -  _ us _ \- out with this.”

“Maybe, but Ruth is very rich, and the others are just as loaded,” Laurel said.

“He’s a friend,” Sara insisted after a moment. “I don’t want to make things weird.”

“If he’s your friend, he’ll make the trip that much more bearable,” she pointed out. “Besides, from what Cisco and Barry have told me, he could definitely handle a room of jerks.”

Sara’s mouth twitched as she fought a smile. “He could. But what about you?”

Laurel shrugged. “I can always go solo. Your fake boyfriend will be almost as good a distraction.”

Sara glanced at her. “I mean, if Len goes, Mick will be alone.”

Laurel remembered Mick Rory from the brief introductions in the past. A quiet enough man, and definitely intimidating enough to help her keep her family issues at bay. She’d had a few conversations with him to know that he wasn’t a jerk. “If he’s willing, I’d appreciate it.”

“I’m not promising anything,” Sara said, pointing her finger at her. “And I’ll remind you that this is all your fault.”

“I take full responsibility,” Laurel said with a smile.

Sara let out a sigh, rubbing her eyes. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

Laurel grinned. “Good luck.”

“Shut up. You’re the worst.”

“Love you, too.” She pulled her unwilling sister into a hug that Sara grumbled through for a moment before hugging her back.

“I’ll text you if they’re up for it,” she said.

“Even if they’re not, you know I’ve got your back,” Laurel promised.

Sara smiled, but it was trepidatious. Laurel had a brief moment of regret for putting her in this position, but then Sara waved and started off towards her time machine - time ship - and Laurel went back to her apartment.

She had a lot to do if she was taking some time off.

* * *

**“Welcome back, Captain Lance.”**

Sara smiled up at the ceiling. “Hey, Gideon.”

**“Did you have an enjoyable lunch?”**

“Not so much.” She started into the hallway, half tempted to go to her room and ignore the suggestion Laurel had planted in her brain, but knowing that if she didn’t go now, she’d lose her nerve.

Since Leonard had returned after the metacrisis, he’d come back to the team as if nothing had changed. They played cards, but it was less often, with her being busy with captain responsibilities and Len catching up on the years he’d missed. She and Ava had broken up shortly after his return, due to other issues, but Ava had definitely thrown Leonard in her face as she stormed out.

But in the almost six months since the breakup,  _ Waverider  _ time, she and Leonard hadn’t changed their current relationship. They were friends, and maybe they played cards a bit more often, but there was no mention of the Oculus or Len’s thoughts about the future.

So, she was certain this whole fake-boyfriend thing was a bad idea just waiting to blow up in her face, but the alternative wasn’t all that great, either.

Recalling the last time she’d gone with her family to one of these get-togethers, Sara frowned. She understood what her family had against her, but it didn’t make it any easier to deal with. But if Laurel and her mom were going, she couldn’t just stay back, as much as she would want to. Laurel would never say it, but she was given a hard time, too. She wouldn’t make her go through it alone. And now that Quentin was dead, she was certain Dinah was going to get shit on top of the usual. What kind of captain would she be if she couldn’t face down her bitchy estranged family for the sake of her mom and sister? Even if the idea made her a little sick, she had to do it.

Having Len and Mick there would make it all much more bearable, and if her family did get awful, she could always have Mick burn the place down and Len rob them blind.

Letting out a sigh, she paused in the hallway. “Are Snart and Rory aboard?”

**“Mr. Rory and Mr. Snart are currently in the kitchen.”**

“Thanks.”

Rehearsing what to say didn’t get her anywhere by the time she reached the kitchen. She could hear both of them in there, and a few words were spoken between them, but it didn’t seem like she’d be interrupting.

Sara exhaled slowly, then walked into the kitchen. “Hey.”

Mick, his indomitable figure taking up a good half of the table, grunted. His only wardrobe change due to the weather was a slightly darker jacket. He had been foregoing his gloves more and more often, which Sara was glad to see. Writing had really made Rory more tempered, and she had to admit, he looked cute in his glasses the few times she caught him wearing them.

Leonard kept his eyes on the hot chocolate he was making. “Lance. Hot chocolate?”

“Please.” She took a seat across from Mick, her foot bouncing nervously. It was just a matter of three seconds for Leonard to notice and comment on it.

“Everything okay?” He didn’t even seem to look at her, giving her only a view of his black jacket and jeans, not that it was a bad view. He hadn’t seemed to age at all in the Oculus, though he admitted once that time had worked differently. But he still had the same salt and pepper hair, the same deliberate way of speaking, the same arrogant smirk that she’d missed.

Tamping down on those thoughts, which were unhelpful, Sara glanced at the table.

“You seem a little wired,” Mick added in a grumble. “Lunch with Momma Lance not go so hot?”

“Kind of,” she admitted.

Leonard eyed her over his shoulder, that piercing blue gaze seeming to see more than she was saying. In silence, he finished the hot chocolate and got out a few mugs. He brought one over for her, sitting next to Mick with another one in hand.

“Spill, Blondie,” Mick said, finishing his beer and putting it down with a thud.

She played with the handle for a minute, her nails tapping on the ceramic. “Do you guys have Christmas plans?”

Mick frowned. “What?”

“Not particularly,” Leonard said slowly. “Why?”

“How about a nine-day, all-expense-paid trip to England for both of you?” She turned the mug towards her, holding it between her hands and letting the warmth scald her, just a bit.

Mick stared at her, still frowning. “Is it a job?”

Sara rubbed her eyes. “Not exactly.”

“Lance.”

She huffed, dropping her hands. “My mom roped Laurel and me into going to see our grandma. She lives in England and has this huge house and way overdone party on Christmas Day. That whole side of the family goes.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Leonard drawled, with a small upturn at the end, obviously looking for the draw.

“Everything for you would be paid for, since my grandmother is not only the fucking worst, she’s obscenely rich. Most of that side of the family is rich and awful, and very, very stupid,” Sara said, wrapping her hands around the mug in front of her again. It warmed her hands almost as much as the burn on her cheeks.

“I’m failing to see why we’d be included in such...familial bliss,” Leonard said.

Sara glanced at him, but dropped her eyes back to her mug. “I don’t talk to my grandma often. She already wrangled a promise to go out of my mom, and sent tickets, already paid for. One for my mom, my sister, and me...and Ava.” She saw Leonard’s chin go up in a moment of clarity, but still didn’t look up. “So you’d be taking her place as…”

“Your date?” Mick filled in when neither of the other two spoke.

“Boyfriend,” Sara corrected, pleased that her voice was steady.

Mick snorted, but Leonard didn’t laugh or reject the idea immediately.

It was quiet for a moment before Mick frowned. “Wait, so why do you need me?”

The assumption that Leonard would be the one to pretend to be her boyfriend almost gave Sara pause, but she powered forward. “She also sent a ticket for Tommy Merlyn, who ended things with Laurel two months ago.”

Mick frowned, trying to take another sip of his empty beer, then getting to his feet to grab another one and leaning on the counter by the fridge. “Your sis know about this plan?”

“It was her idea,” she admitted.

“So,” Leonard said slowly, “you and your sister want Mick and I to be your pretend boyfriends for your family Christmas.”

“Yup.”

“Why not just go solo?”

“I’d rather not go at all.” Sara took a sip of her hot chocolate, remembering some of the choice words the last time she’d gone. “They give us a hard time, and last time they...they’re mostly assholes, and they don’t like me.”

Mick’s brows went up, at the same time Leonard’s lowered.

“It’d just make everything easier if I had one fewer thing for them to find fault with. Same with Laurel. And with you guys there, it might actually be bearable.”

Neither one of them spoke and Sara found that she couldn’t take a sip of her drink, not with her stomach turning. She got to her feet.

“Yeah, this was a stupid idea,” she forced a laugh. “I’m sorry. Forget it, I -”

“We’ll think about it,” Leonard interrupted.

Sara blinked at him and he watched her with an inscrutable face. “You don’t have to,” she said quietly.

“I’ll let you know for sure by tonight.”

“Okay,” she said, still a little thrown that he was actually considering it. Not wanting to push her luck, she escaped while she could, feeling Leonard’s gaze on her back her entire exit.

* * *

Mick watched Blondie leave, then turned his eyes to Snart, who was still staring at the door she’d left from. Taking a long sip from his beer, he waited.

Leonard eventually moved, taking a drink from his mug before looking back at Mick. “Thoughts?”

“Don’t have anythin’ better to do,'' Mick said. He didn’t like the idea of Blondie being given a hard time, and if he didn’t like it, Snart sure as hell didn’t. If she needed backup, he was happy to help out. And if he made some money off of it, too, so much the better.

“And you’d be okay pretending to date her sister?” he asked.

Mick shrugged. “Dunno how good I’ll be at it, but sure. Why not? Free trip, free food, and the chance to steal from assholes.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“For you, maybe.”

Leonard cut his eyes at him, but Mick didn’t back down. Oh, he was well-aware of that kiss at the Oculus and the fact that neither one of them had done a damn thing about it since Snart had come back. He was tired of the moping and the looks and the will they/won’t they bullshit. It had been amusing at first, but now it was starting to get old.

And fuck, maybe he was just going soft in his old age or maybe it was because he was a writer now, but he wanted his friends to be happy, like some sort of sap.

They both deserved some decency in this life. The two of them had gone through more shit than anyone should have to, and here they were, making their lives more complicated by not talking to one another. Like morons.

So if this was the only way he could get his stupid moron-friends to get their stupid happily ever after, he could pretend to date Blondie’s sister for a few days and maybe steal some of their stuff.

Leonard shook his head, then looked at the mug Blondie had left on the table, still full. Mick didn’t like the way she’d left. Blondie was full of...something. Confidence or some shit like that. But when she left just now, she looked scared.

He just didn’t know if it was because of her family, or because of what she’d asked them.

Leonard turned the handle of his mug slightly away from him. Mick waited in the closest thing he had to patience, as he finished his second beer. Once it was gone, he managed another twenty seconds.

“So, we’re doin’ it, right?” It was the only obvious answer. For a guy who claimed not to be a hero, Snart certainly acted like one whenever he had the chance. Especially where Blondie was involved. Especially when he shouldn’t.

Leonard didn’t move for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, we’re doing it.”

Mick grabbed another drink. “I’ll let her know.” He started towards the door and paused with a grin. “Hell of a Christmas this is gonna be, huh? You and Blondie.”

“I’m just helping her out.” Leonard glared at him and sipped his hot chocolate.

“Sure, boss. Whatever you say.”

“Fuck off, Mick.”

Laughing, Mick left the room to track down Blondie, but paused when he was out of earshot of Leonard.

“Yo, Metalmouth. How much you wanna bet this is goin’ to be a disaster?”

**“Chances of irreparable team damage is three to one odds for.”**

“Better than I thought.”

**“I am known to make mistakes.”**

“For or against?”

**“Unclear.”**

Mick chuckled, heading to the bridge. “This is gonna be fun.”


	2. 11 Hours Travel

“It is too damn early to be up,” Mick grumbled as he opened the door.

Sara chuckled, obviously agreeing with him as she stepped into the apartment. When they were in Central, there were a few places he could go, but Snart had just the one in Star City. Seeing as how the flight was leaving from here, and having a car pick them up at the abandoned building where they parked the  _ Waverider  _ would have been a curiosity, he and Snart had elected to stay here for a few days beforehand to get packed up and ready for the trip. It was a nice enough place, a bigass tree outside the window of their third-story apartment, with an open living room and massive television, and a fully stocked fridge.

Mick knocked on Snart’s door. “Car’s here.”

Leaning on the doorframe, Sara hid a yawn behind her hand. “Nice place.”

Mick grunted, as Snart’s door opened up, him coming out with a small suitcase.

“Still don’t see why we couldn’t take the  _ Waverider,”  _ Leonard said as a greeting, his narrowed eyes the only indication he was tired. They made their way to the door, Mick grabbing his duffel bag on the way, irritated with the weight. When he tried to just bring his usual, Snart had glared at him, so Mick was traveling heavier than he normally did. Apparently, there was more to pretending to date someone than he figured, and a good portion of that was clothes. Whatever.

“Trust me, I tried,” Sara retorted, taking Snart’s bag from him as he locked up. Snart gave her that little smile he thought didn’t give everything away and Mick snorted, heading down the stairs. It was too early for this crap.

The car was idling in front of the stone facade of the apartment building, exhaust swirling up in the dim morning light. The trunk was already popped, so Mick opened it up all the way, sliding his battered duffel bag next to Sara’s familiar backpack and a fancy piece of name brand luggage that must belong to her sister. Waiting until Snart tossed his bag in, Mick shut the trunk and followed them into the back of the car.

Blondie’s sister, Laurel, was already in the seat on the side, and she smiled as Mick climbed in.

“Morning,” she said. Despite plans for being on a plane all day, she was dressed nicer than any of them in work slacks and a button up shirt, with a sweater folded on her lap. He never really thought of Blondie as young, but he could see the weight of a very different king of life on her sister, in the lines at her eyes. She wore more makeup than Blondie did, dark stuff on her eyes and red lips. She was some hotshot lawyer out here, and she looked like she could handle a courtroom. Why she needed him was a mystery.

Mick grunted a hello, resting his head back against the seat as the car started off.

“Nice to see you again, Leonard,” Laurel greeted.

“You, too.”

“Mom’s meeting us at the airport,” she told Sara.

“Does she know about your...profession?” Snart asked.

“Yeah, Mom and Laurel both know about the  _ Waverider  _ and everything, but not the rest of the family.”

The conversation faded out, the early hour getting to all of them. Mick was feeling a bit more awake as the car parked outside the airport, the driver stepping out to take out their luggage and leave it on the curb. Leonard grabbed his suitcase and Sara picked up her backpack easily, hiking it up over her shoulder as she led the way inside. Laurel reached down for her bag, but Mick snagged it first.

“I can carry that,” she said.

“Gotta play my part, Counselor.”

Laurel smiled at him. “Well, thanks, then.”

Mick just grunted and followed her in. The terminal wasn’t too busy this time of day, and it was just the matter of a few seconds before Sara spotted an older woman with blonde hair and beelined over to her.

“Good morning,” she said, with an accent like Hunter used to have, hugging Sara tightly before grabbing Laurel in a hug, too. She looked at Mick and then at Snart, still smiling politely. “You must be Leonard and Michael.”

“Mick,” he corrected immediately.

She smiled. “I’m Dinah.” The smile sharpened just a touch. “What’s Laurel’s middle name?”

Mick blinked.

“Mhmm.” She turned on Leonard. “When’s Sara’s birthday?”

“December 25th,” Snart answered immediately.

“Favorite color?”

“Blue.”

“Sports team?”

“Central City Cougars.” He sounded almost bored and Mick had to hand it to him, Snart knew how to play this game. Sara was watching him with an impressed smile, while Laurel arched a brow, her eyes darting between the two of them.

“Does she snore?”

Leonard hesitated.

“Better, but still not good enough.” Dinah eyed her daughters. “Fake dates. Really?”

Sara’s chin went up, but Laurel stepped in. “They’re good friends. It’ll make everything a lot easier on both of us.”

Mick shared a glance with Snart.

Dinah pursed her lips, then glanced at Mick. “You deal with snobby assholes often, Mr. Rory?”

“Do former captains count?”

She smiled and glanced at Leonard, brow arched just like Blondie did.

“We’ll manage.”

Dinah looked at him for another moment, then nodded. “Make sure to get your stories straight on the plane, otherwise, the Drakes are going to eat you alive. Let’s go.”

Bemused, Mick followed Sara and Snart as they walked behind her, Laurel next to him.

“It’s Laurel, by the way.”

“Hmm?”

“My middle name is Laurel. My first name is Dinah.”

Mick nodded.

They made their way through security without a problem, but if Blondie didn’t have a knife on her somewhere, he’d eat glass. Finding their gate was easy and Mick looked forward to settling in to wait for the next half hour before their flight.

Blondie and Counselor went off, while Momma Lance pulled out a book and started reading. Snart had his eyes half-closed as if he was resting, but Mick knew that wasn’t the case. Eventually, the girls returned, hot drinks in hand. Sara handed one of the three she was balancing to her mom, then looked at Snart.

“Coffee or hot chocolate?”

“Coffee. Thanks.”

She took the seat next to him and Mick wondered if they’d always been this obvious.

“Coffee?”

He looked up, seeing Laurel in front of him, holding out another cup.

“Thanks,” he said slowly, taking it from her. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a couple packets of sugar and cream. Mick grabbed some sugar and Laurel put the rest in her purse, taking the seat next to her mom.

An eternity later, the plane started boarding. Mick had been mildly surprised when he’d found out the five of them were in first class. It would make the hour delay in Gotham where they weren’t de-planing a bit more bearable.

The first-class seating was three rows of two seats going across the plane. They were wider and looked more comfortable than the ones in coach, and it wasn’t his dime, so Mick didn’t have a problem with it. Dinah took the single ticket seat by the window, leaving the rest of them to choose from the pairs of seats in front or behind her. Sara moved to the window seat behind her mom and after a second of hesitation, Leonard took the seat next to her.

Unsurprised, Mick joined Laurel in the first row. She chose the aisle seat, which he was grateful for. He didn’t like the idea of people all around him, especially people he didn’t know all that well. There was some awkward shuffling as the rest of first-class loaded up, putting their bags above their heads. A man in some hoity-toity suit stepped up next to Laurel.

“Sorry, do you mind if I put my bag here?”

“Go ahead,” she said, her eyes on her bag as she pulled out her phone, a book, and a pair of headphones.

He smiled at her, his teeth flashing white. “Thanks, miss…?”

“You’re welcome,” Laurel said shortly, ignoring the question with a smile.

Mick watched her, amused. The man blinked, then went to his seat across the aisle from them. Flight attendants came around, flutes of champagne and orange juice.

“Complimentary mimosa?” the attendant offered.

Mick shrugged. Free booze was free booze. He nodded and the attendant pulled out a little tray from between their seats that flipped up into a table and placed the mimosa down.

“Mimosa?” the attendant asked Laurel. She declined with a smile, sipping her coffee.

The champagne wasn’t much, but Mick downed it anyway, looking at the empty glass. “I could get used to this.”

She glanced at the empty glass, an odd look in her eye before she smiled. “I’m sure your ship has its upsides.”

“Sure, though you don’t always end up where you should. And the occasional burst of time-sickness.”

Laurel laughed quietly. “Is that like motion sickness?”

“Nah. Snart talked backward for an hour or so,” Mick chuckled, remembering his partner’s irritation. “Haircut couldn’t stop falling down. Blondie said she never got hit by it, but I think she -”

“Do you travel much?” The dude in 1C was leaning over the aisle, mimosa in hand.

Laurel shook her head with a tight smile, turning to face Mick so that the man was mostly looking at her back. “What was your first trip with Sara like?”

“When we got benched?” Mick asked.

“Sure.”

He told her a few stories of the early days, interrupted by takeoff, the safety briefing, and the attendants coming around with another set of mimosas. Mick took a second, noting that Laurel declined again. He downed it in a moment, putting the glass aside as he finished telling her about Beebo. He wasn’t usually this much a storyteller - he’d rather write it down - but Laurel seemed legitimately interested, and there was enough of Blondie in her face to keep him from feeling like he was talking to a stranger, though he essentially was.

She started telling him about one of the cases she’d handled in her firm, just getting to the good bits, when 1C got up and came over, partially leaning on Laurel’s seat.

“So, ever been to Gotham?” he asked.

Laurel stared at him for a moment. “I’m sorry, can I help you?”

“Just trying to make conversation.”

“I’m already in a conversation,” she said, gesturing to Mick. “Thanks anyway.”

1C’s eyes drifted over to Mick, who grinned up at him. 1C left with a frown, and Laurel continued her story, the plight of the poor defense attorney who’d gone up against her making him snicker. Counselor might not be quite as obvious with the kind of Lance charm he was familiar with, but it was clear she could hold her own. When she finished, they fell into the first bit of silence since the plane takeoff, Laurel’s book and headphones still untouched, when a smothered peal of laughter from the back row drew Laurel’s eyes back to her sister.

She turned back to Mick and leaned a little closer, some sort of fruity shit from her shampoo or perfume filling his nose. “So,” Laurel whispered conspiratorially. “What’s the deal with Snart and Sara?”

“They’re morons.”

She smiled, glancing over her shoulder at her sister and being incredibly obvious. “She is so in love with him,” she said quietly.

“Snart’s got it bad, too. Both of them are just too damn stubborn.”

“Well, hopefully, this will work.”

It took him a moment to process that. “Is that why you suggested this whole thing?”

“A little. I -”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Mick scoffed; 1C was back.

“No, thank you,” Laurel said. She turned back to Mick. “Sara does have it worse over there, but she’s -”

“Are you sure?”

Laurel’s eyes narrowed and Mick hid a grin, having seen a similar expression on Blondie’s face from time to time.

“Sir,” Laurel said, turning to face him fully, no trace of a smile on her face now. “I don’t want a drink and I’m trying to have a conversation here, that you’ve interrupted no less than four times. I’d appreciate it if you left me alone.”

“I’m just trying to be friendly,” he said, his voice lowering. “No need for you to be such a stuck up bi-”

Laurel tensed and Mick found himself speaking before he thought it through.

“Then I’ll take a whiskey,” Mick interrupted.

1C stilled, his mouth agape. “What?”

“You’re bein’ friendly, right?” Mick said, letting his voice hit the register that made it sound like a growl. “Just tryin’ to be nice to fellow travelers and all? I’ll take a drink.”

“I offered it to her -”

“And she said no. So you can buy me a drink, or you can go back to your seat and shut the hell up. ‘Cause if you ain’t bein’ friendly, then I don’t have to be, either.”

Mick didn’t drop his eyes from 1C, who frowned and opened his mouth like he was going to respond. Mick pointedly undid his seatbelt and 1C blanched. An attendant stepped up. 

“Sir, can I help you?” she asked 1C.

“No, I just -”

“Wonderful, if you could return to your seat, we need to keep the aisles clear.”

1C went and Laurel unbuckled her seatbelt, her mouth still in a line.

“I’m going to use the restroom,” she said quietly.

She went back to the bathroom behind first class and Mick, seeing 1C’s eyes still followed her, got up and moved to the aisle seat. He put Laurel’s things in his old seat and buckled back in.

Coming back a few minutes later, Laurel glanced at the new seating, but didn’t say a word, taking his former seat without comment. She tucked one leg beneath her as she faced him, an odd mix of discomfort and embarrassment on her face.

“How’s Blondie worse off with your family?” Mick asked.

Laurel looked at him for a long moment, the discomfort fading with a sad smile. “They don’t like her.”

“Why?” Mick asked. She could piss him off and she made some dumb decisions, but she was a good person at heart.

Laurel flushed, folding her arms against her chest. “Because of me. The family likes me, lawyer, good student, perfect whatever,” she scoffed, lowering her eyes. “Exactly what they thought good Drake girls should be. And Sara...wasn’t. They always treated her like she wasn’t as welcome or good enough. They gave her a hard time. So, when she and Oliver ran off on the  _ Gambit...” _

“Didn’t help,” Mick finished.

Laurel shook her head. “No.” She turned to look back, but stopped herself. “The last time we both went back, Sara left in the middle of the party. Walked right out of the estate, hitched a ride to the airport, and bought a ticket home. I didn’t find out until later that Miranda and Adam had been telling her how much they’d enjoyed her funeral. And if that’s what they admitted, I can’t imagine what else they said to her to make her leave.”

Mick stared at her for a long minute. He wasn’t new to the idea of shitty families, but this was a different kind of awful. “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” she agreed quietly. “She’s only coming because mom and I are going, and the Drakes tend to give her a hard time. I do what I can, but I just...I didn’t want her to feel alone.”

“Snart’s got her back,” Mick said. He hesitated, unsure if he should push. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Blondie says they give you a hard time, too.”

She gave him a little smile, her eyes shifting back to look towards her sister again. “It’s nothing. Normal family nonsense.”

“Will they really be pissed if they find out I’m a fake?”

“Probably.”

“Alright, then you keep them from finding out, and I’ll watch out for you and Blondie.”

Laurel smiled, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. She touched his arm, her hand warm despite the chilled air around them. “Thanks, Mick.”

“Sir?”

He looked back at the flight attendant.

“Would either of you like another drink?”

Laurel politely declined, and before he realized what he was doing, Mick found himself saying, “I’m good, thanks.”

The attendant moved on and Mick settled back in his chair before glancing over at Laurel. She was watching him oddly, a little line between her brows.

Mick cleared his throat and reclined his chair. “Wake me when we hit Gotham.”

* * *

Leonard watched Mick turn out the light above his seat and settle back. So far there didn’t seem to be any issues, but he wasn’t about to hold out hope that it would last.

“Your turn,” Sara said, drawing his attention back to their card game.

She was curled up in the seat, reminding him just exactly how small she was, as his legs were stretched out to the limits of his space. He wasn’t a fan of flying and though sleeping might have been the best choice, he knew he wouldn’t be able to, not with so many people moving around him and the constant hum of noise from the plane and passengers. Drawing a card from his hand, he placed it down and took another, watching Sara frown at her hand before picking up the one he’d dropped. It was a common tell with her, despite her insistence she didn’t have a tell.

She looked up, catching the smile that had slid onto his face unknowingly and mirroring it. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, letting it fade. “Your mother seems to think we need to work on our story.”

Sara scoffed a little, resting her head against the seat. “I guess. I’m not planning on spending much time with the family if I can help it.”

“Who’s included in this illustrious family?” Leonard asked, playing his winning hand. She made a face at him as he picked them up and shuffled again.

“Grandma Ruth is the top. It’s her house. Deirdre is my mom’s older sister. Her husband, Ernest, died eight years back. She has one kid, Emmet, who’s married to Henry, and they have a little boy named Lucas. I haven’t met him.” She took the cards Leonard passed out to her, flipping a few over and organizing them as she continued. “My uncle David is my mom’s brother. He’s married to Jacqueline, and they’ve got three kids, James, Susanne, who’s married to Ferdinand and had two or three kids, I don’t remember. And Miranda.”

“Miranda?” Leonard asked, hearing something in her voice.

Sara just nodded and moved on. “Dawson is the youngest uncle. He’s married to my Aunt Tiana, and their kids are Adam and Quinn. Quinn’s been seeing this guy Brandon forever.”

“So why’s your grandmother such a piece of work?”

“She throws a bunch of money at you so she can say whatever she wants. Thinks she can buy affection while treating everyone like crap.” Sara gestured to the plane. “This is nothing to her, and now she can say what she wants and counter it with the fact that she paid for our flights.”

Leonard frowned at his cards. “What’s their deal with you?”

He could see Sara looking at him over her cards, but didn’t lift his gaze. She sighed, lowering her voice a little.

“I’m not exactly Drake family material. College dropout, criminal record, I messed up my sister’s perfect relationship, and then the whole...I’m the black sheep, is all.”

He’d bet good money there was more to it than that, but he didn’t say anything more about it. “And Laurel?”

Feeling safer, he looked up to see Sara’s eyes narrowing. “Laurel is too nice, and some of the guys who have been brought in seem to take that as an offer.”

Leonard arched a brow, thinking back to the names. “Brandon and Ferdinand?”

She nodded. “I nearly broke Ferdi’s wrist last time. He tried to trap her under the mistletoe during the party.”

Her eyes shifted up as she looked to where Laurel and Mick were sitting.

Leonard couldn’t help but try to reassure her. “You know Mick will watch out for her.”

“I know.”

“It’ll be fine, Lance.”

She nodded, turning back to her cards. They played for a bit longer in silence, before she sighed. “So, what, we met at work or something?”

“Always easiest to incorporate some of the truth when lying.”

She won that hand and collected the cards, but only half-heartedly shuffled them.

“They knew you were dating Ava,” Leonard said, half as a question, despite knowing the answer and being familiar with that relationship.

He’d come back, after years away, though he wasn’t aware of it, and though he’d only had a few days in Central City at STAR Labs before the  _ Waverider  _ came back, hailed by Barry, he’d...hoped. He had wanted his old spot back, his old team back, his old friendships, and his new...future.

Instead, he’d been greeted with a new team, new friendships, and different futures. Futures where Sara had moved on, with someone who was so unlike him, he wasn’t sure there’d ever been a future for them to begin with, not if she’d fallen in love with Ava Sharpe.

He’d adjusted to most of it. Nate and Zari were amusing, and John was fun when he wasn’t moping. He’d been sorry to say goodbye to Charlie, and though he’d never admit it, even sorrier to see Palmer go. The only good thing was that shortly after Palmer left, Ava and Sara had their breakup and the director left, too, taking with her all the snide looks and thinly veiled references to his past that she’d never said too loudly around Sara. Save one memorable moment just after his return.

But he wasn’t mad and only slightly bitter. He’d been dead. Regardless of what happened with the metacrisis, he had been dead. It made sense that his team would change and grow without him. So sure, he read Mick’s books with a sense of amazement and didn’t give Sara the same kind of crap he gave Rip, and he was finding some balance, playing cards with her a bit more often, but never stepping over the line of friendship. He was adjusting, and still happy with his life on the _ Waverider;  _ even if it wasn’t everything he wanted, it was still more than he’d hoped for.

“Yeah. So we can say we got together…” He watched her struggle over the math that they all had to deal with - real time versus  _ Waverider  _ time. “Like four months ago. But we’ve been friends for a long time, so that’s why you’re cool with coming on a family trip.” She mixed up the cards, watching her hands rather than him. “Thanks, by the way. I know this isn’t how you probably wanted to spend the holidays.”

“I didn’t have other plans,” he said.

“Still.” She dealt out a hand.

Leonard picked up his cards, keeping his eyes on the plastic. “I don’t mind helping out. Though I doubt you’ll need it.”

When he looked up next, she was smiling faintly at her cards, though it was ruined a bit by the yawn that broke through.

“We can stop,” he said, folding his cards away. “If you want to sleep.”

“No,” she insisted. “I like playing.”

He scooped up the cards anyway, pretending he wasn’t smiling at that admission. “We can play later. We’ve still got another eight hours or so,” Leonard reminded her. “Take a nap until Gotham.”

Letting out a sigh and trying to smother another yawn, Sara settled back into her chair. “Fine.” She reclined it a little further and curled up on her side, facing away from him and pulling her jacket up as a blanket.

Leonard watched her profile for longer than he’d admit, feeling safe enough as Dinah was asleep in front of them and Mick was snoring up front. Sara seemed older. Which was stupid, because she obviously was four years older than when he’d gone and died. But he could see some lines in her face that weren’t there before. How she tended to think before she spoke now. How she seemed much more comfortable with who she was, bloodlust and all.

Before, they’d bonded over feeling like the outcasts. Unneeded except for the jobs no one else wanted to do, the thief and the assassin. Now, Sara was the captain and he was still just...the thief. She didn’t really seem like the type of person who needed someone like him. Not anymore.

Maybe that’s why he’d jumped so quickly at this stupid plan that was bound to go poorly for all of them. Because she’d needed him, at least a little. And so here he was, flying across the world to go make nice with people who didn’t deserve it. He tried to muster up some feeling of indignation or resentment that he’d gone so willingly with this asinine idea, but he couldn’t.

Loathe as he was to admit it, at least aloud, he cared about Sara Lance, and if she needed his help, he’d be there, every time.

Sara slept until they’d landed in Gotham, part of the plane leaving, including the man giving Mick and Laurel a hard time earlier. They’d gone back to playing cards as new passengers got on and they began the flight to England. She’d started telling him stories of her and Laurel as kids, some of which he’d already heard, but that he didn’t mind hearing again as it got Sara smiling. He’d brought up some old memories of him and Lisa wreaking havoc around the holidays, making Sara laugh until they got nasty looks from the people to the side. They ate the in-flight meal and it seemed like far fewer than eleven hours by the time they landed at Heathrow airport.

De-planing took forever, and Leonard was starting to feel the journey now. Sara and Laurel beelined for a bathroom as soon as they got off, Dinah right behind them. Waiting for them, Leonard stretched his neck as Mick rubbed his face.

“Sara mentioned the ones who gave Laurel a hard time,” he said, drawing Mick’s attention. “Brandon and Ferdinand.” Mick made a face at the names and Leonard nearly smiled as he continued, “One’s married and one’s dating the family and don’t seem to be all that concerned with being faithful.”

Rolling his eyes, Mick scoffed. “You’d think, bein’ rich meant they’d been more interestin’ in what kinds of assholes they were.”

“Apparently not.”

“Counselor said a couple things about Blondie, too. Some chick named Miranda and Adrian or something were the ones who drove her off.”

Leonard figured he meant Adam, but then his travel-fogged mind caught his wording. “Wait, drove her off?”

“Yeah, she walked out and flew back alone last time.”

That didn’t sound like Sara. “What did they do?”

“Somethin’ about -” Mick broke off as the women in question came out of the bathroom, walking over. Sara took her coat from Leonard with a thank you and the conversation was put on hold as they went down to baggage claim to grab their luggage.

The chill from the doors by baggage claim made Leonard grateful he’d brought a warmer jacket. Outside, he could see snow layering on the sidewalk and road. As soon as he got his bag, he pulled out his jacket and slid it on, seeing Laurel doing the same. Sara just zipped up the coat she’d worn on the plane, while Dinah pulled out a scarf, gloves, and a hat from her bag. Mick didn’t make any changes at all.

“Alright,” Dinah said. “Let’s find a cab and -”

“Mom,” Sara said, jerking her chin towards the side.

Leonard looked to where the limo drivers and town cars were lined up, holding signs. One near the front of the line held a sign that read  _ Dinah Drake and Family. _

“That bodes well,” Dinah said, resigned. “Well, let’s go.”

“Thought her last name was still Lance,” Leonard said quietly as she greeted the driver and he led them out to a limo on the curb.

“It is,” Sara answered. “They didn’t like my dad, either.”

“This keeps gettin’ better,” Mick said from behind them, obviously listening in.

“Hasn’t even started,” Laurel added, with a halfway-bitter grin. She got in first, followed by Mick.

“Regretting this yet?” Sara asked Leonard, her hand on the door.

“Not yet,” he told her with a tired smile. “But ask me again when we get there.”

That drew a smile out of Sara and he followed her into the car, pulling the door shut behind him.


	3. 10 Spiteful Presents

Laurel quietly shut the door to her room behind her, lifting the handle so it didn’t click, allowing Mick to continue sleeping. Once outside, she pulled on the low heels she’d carried out, balancing against the wall, the wood floors cold even through her socks. She’d grabbed a sweater to pull on over her blouse, but kept it over her arm for the moment. Down this wide hallway were six other doors, four of which were bedrooms and one was a closet. Each room had an attached bathroom, which made this perfect for hosting so many guests.

Moving to the center of the hallway, Laurel walked on the carpet that ran down the length of the hall to the stairs, her steps muffled. Picking her way down the narrow staircase at one end, she ended up in the kitchen, mildly surprised to see Leonard was already up, dressed, and sitting at the table with a mug in front of him.

They’d arrived late last night, and hadn’t done much else other than get shown to their rooms by a very tired Dinah, who still had a key to the house. Laurel and Mick had an awkward moment where they both stared at the large bed before Mick just pulled off a pillow and a blanket before moving to the wingback chair in the corner. She’d been too tired to have a conversation about it, but she planned on doing so today.

“Coffee’s ready, if you want some,” Leonard said, gesturing to the counter.

“Thanks,” Laurel said, opening one of the cabinets to see spices and seasonings.

“Next one over.”

She opened the next cupboard to see mugs. She pulled one out and glanced over her shoulder at him. “You already found out where everything is in this place?” She said it with a smile, not trying to make it seem like a judgment.

“Habit,” he answered easily, apparently unbothered.

Laurel laughed, grabbing the cream from the fridge and sugar from the counter. She made her coffee and took a seat across from him, eyeing the faintly familiar kitchen.

The long, wooden table had chairs ranging around it, dark and expensive wood cabinets above and below the pale stone granite. The narrow windows over the sink and in the door that led out onto the grounds were frosted with ice, casting a pale glow into the kitchen. 

“How’d you sleep?” Laurel asked, stirring her coffee with her spoon.

“Fine. You?”

“Fine.” She wanted to ask if he shared the bed with Sara, but there was no way of doing that without being incredibly obvious. There was a creak as the old house settled, and Laurel had to admit, the place was beautiful, even if it tended to be full of bad memories.

“How has Sara been?” she asked after a moment.

“How do you mean?” Leonard watched her form over his mug, his expression not giving anything away.

“Since Ava,” Laurel clarified, making sure no one was coming down the hall that led to the other part of the house and her grandmother’s rooms.

Leonard took a sip of his coffee. “She’s fine. Sharpe wasn’t exactly...cooperative with the  _ Waverider  _ team. She caused some tension, which Lance had to deal with. That’s gone now.”

That seemed to jive with the little Sara had told her. “Good. I know she said she was relieved, after the immediate breakup. Ava was...” she trailed off. She’d met the former director of the Time Bureau a few times, and though she hadn’t hated her, she hadn’t exactly liked her. She had a tendency to talk over Sara, like Oliver used to do to her. Sara might have allowed that at one point, but not anymore, and the two of them tended to butt heads. Maybe they were fine while dating, but living and working together appeared to be a strain.

“Yeah,” Leonard finished for her.

“You didn’t like her either?”

He smirked. “It was mutual. But Lance seems happier, now.”

“Good,” Laurel said.

There were footsteps from the front of the house and Leonard’s eyes darted up as he got to his feet. Laurel took a breath, fixed a smile on her face, and turned.

“Laurel!”

Grandma Ruth stood in the doorway, her grey hair pulled back in her characteristic bun at the base of her neck. She had the same blue eyes as Sara, though hers were lined with age. Her makeup was perfectly applied, as always, and she stepped into the room in a waft of expensive perfume and her everyday diamonds. The long grey dress hid her shoes, but Laurel could hear her heels as she crossed the room towards her.

Laurel stood as Ruth approached, her arms extended for a hug. Laurel hugged her back, the thick cardigan not enough to keep her from realizing just how old and frail Ruth had become in the past few years. Guilt unwillingly settled into her chest as she pulled back, Ruth still standing just as tall as Laurel in her heels, though seeming much smaller.

“It’s so lovely to see you, my dear,” Ruth said earnestly, holding Laurel’s arms. “Let me look at you.” She sighed with happiness, “You just keep getting more beautiful every time I see you. How have you been?”

“I’ve been fine, thank you,” Laurel said.

Ruth’s eyes darted behind to where Leonard stood and she smiled politely. “I’m so sorry, you must be Michael.”

“Leonard, actually.” He stepped forward with a winning smile, holding out his hand. “Thanks so much for the invitation. You have a beautiful home.”

Ruth shook his hand, her smile surprised and yet flattered. She let go with a confused laugh.

“Leonard? That means you’re  _ Sara’s _ …” 

“Boyfriend,” he finished, still smiling. Laurel watched him, amused at how easily he played his part. 

“How...unexpected,” Ruth said. She seemed to shake herself free of her surprise and moved towards the kettle. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t up to greet you last night, but the flight was so late.”

“It’s okay,” Laurel said. “We were all pretty tired when we got here.”

“Of course.” Ruth busied herself for a moment, getting her tea and saucer out, the placement very particular. “Everyone else is coming in tomorrow, except David and Jacquline, who will be arriving in the afternoon.”

Leonard took his seat, glancing up towards the ceiling as footsteps began moving about upstairs. Laurel got a few more mugs out as Ruth listed off arrival times for the rest of the family, listening with half an ear as she got everyone else their drinks. There were footsteps on the stairs and Laurel saw Mick, Dinah, and Sara enter the room. She smiled at them, but poured the coffee, putting sugar into one of the cups.

Dinah went right to Ruth. “Hello, Mum.”

Ruth gave her a big hug, then pulled back to look at her with a smile. “You’re too thin, my love. We’ll get that fixed up right away.”

Mick sidled a little further into the room, and Ruth’s smile faltered, her eyes darting between Laurel and him. “You must be Michael.”

“It’s Mick, actually,” he said, holding out his hand. “Pleasure.”

“Yes,” Ruth answered, the frown growing. “A pleasure.”

He gave her a little smile, then took the seat between Laurel and Leonard. Silently, Laurel pushed a cup of coffee over to him. Mick looked at it for a moment, then glanced at her. “Thanks.” He took a sip, his brow lifting slightly, and then took another.

Laurel turned her eyes to Sara, who had her hand on a chair like she wanted to sit down but didn't. She had a decent attempt of a smile on her face, and Laurel could tell she’d taken the time to look nice. It made Laurel’s heart hurt to see the effort Sara was going through to keep the peace. Her sweater was neat, the blue color complimentary to her eyes. She wore a little jewelry and a touch of makeup, her hair neat and shining over her shoulders.

“Hi, Grandma,” Sara said.

Ruth walked up to her, putting her hands on both of Sara’s shoulders, looking her up and down. 

“Sara, I barely recognized you. How long has it been?”

“Five years,” Sara said, still smiling.

“You look so...put together. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks.” The smile turned a little sarcastic, but Ruth didn’t seem to notice.

“Did you enjoy your lie-in?” Ruth asked.

“I did, actually.”

“An early morning is the sign of a productive mind,” Ruth said, with the tone of a recitation. Sara just smiled.

“I hear you have a job now,” Ruth said, stepping back from Sara to pick up her tea and saucer. She held the saucer in her hand and eyed Sara over the cup. 

“Yup.”

“It’s so inspiring to see how far you’ve come, what with your little incident.”

Sara grinned in the way that always spelled trouble. “Isn’t it?”

Ruth’s eyes narrowed, but Dinah stepped in, “Mum, when does Deirdre get in?”

Sara pulled the chair out and sat down in it, taking the mug Laurel passed to her with a commiserating look. Sara rolled her eyes and grinned, sipping her coffee, but Laurel felt another stab of guilt. Not even five minutes in and it was already starting.

As Ruth and Dinah talked, the rest of them were fairly quiet. Sara kept her eyes on the table, missing that Leonard was watching her, the smile gone from his face. Mick was frowning at his coffee, but drinking it without a complaint. They weren’t going to make it if they were stuck here with just Ruth all day.

“Grandma?” Laurel said, when there was a break in the conversation.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Sara and I were going to show the guys around town, and pick up some presents for the rest of the family. Is there anything you’d like us to get while we’re there?”

“Oh,” Ruth said, thinking for a moment. “I could use a few more Christmas crackers if you find some. Twilling’s has a set of eight silver ones.”

“No problem.” Laurel finished her coffee and got to her feet, rinsing the mug and putting it in the dish rack. “I’m just going to grab my jacket. Sara, do you want yours?”

“Yes, please,” Sara said, trying to finish her drink as quickly as possible.

“I’ll grab yours, too, Leonard.”

“Thanks,” he said, shooting her a glance. “We’ll meet you out front.”

Laurel went up the stairs, hearing Mick follow her. She got to their room and grabbed her coat out of the closet, where she’d already hung it up.

“Man, you weren’t kidding,” Mick said, pulling his jacket out of his bag. “She’s a piece of work.”

“Yeah,” Laurel said quietly. She took off the sweater to replace it with the thicker jacket, smoothing down the fabric. “I just...I shouldn’t have offered to come. I knew Sara would feel like she had to come with.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “This is my fault.”

Mick was quiet for a moment, then sniffed. “Dunno. Seems like you’re bein’ a good daughter. Grandma’s the one actin’ like a bitch. That’s ain’t your fault.”

“No, but it’s my fault she’s here.”

He gave her a little grin. “Come on, you think Blondie does anythin’ she doesn’t want to? You didn’t force her to come. She chose to.”

“Because she’s looking out for me and Mom,” Laurel pointed out.

“She chose to do that, too.”

Laurel fixed her hair, looking away from him.

Mick took a step closer. “You’re helpin’ her out, gettin’ her out of the house. We’ll just keep doin’ that.”

They didn’t have much of a choice now. She nodded, grabbing a pair of gloves to shove into her pockets just in case. It drew her attention to the makeshift bed in the chair.

“Thanks for,” she gestured to the chair. “We can switch off, you can take the bed tonight, and I can -”

“Nah, you take the bed. I’ve got no complaints.”

“That’s not fair,” Laurel pointed out.

He smiled again. “It’s fine, Counselor. Slept in worse places.”

Not thrilled and having another piece of guilt to deal with, Laurel looked at the ground until Mick shuffled awkwardly.

“And thanks, for the coffee.”

She shook her head. “It was nothing,” she told him. Not nearly the same as giving up his holiday to help her, or sleeping in the chair so she could have the bed or -

“It’s not nothin’ to me.”

Laurel looked up, meeting his eyes. They were hazel, she noticed. A veritable maelstrom of greens and blues and browns, when she was expecting something simpler. Mick looked at her for a long second before he cleared his throat. “We should get back down there before Snart loses his patience with Grandma.”

She smiled and stepped back, breaking whatever...thing had just happened. They crossed the hall to Sara and Leonard’s room, and she was mildly disappointed to see that there was a pile of blankets on the floor. She got Sara’s coat off of the hook and Mick grabbed Leonard’s jacket out of the closet. Laurel led Mick the other way down the hall, taking the stairs that they’d come up last night and seeing Leonard and Sara walking to the front door. As they watched, Laurel saw Leonard reach out to touch Sara’s arm and slowed down a bit on the stairs, but he glanced up and saw them, withdrawing.

She thought she heard Mick huff a little.

“Ready?” Laurel asked, handing Sara her jacket. She nodded and slid it on, managing a smile at her sister.

“Let’s go shopping,” Sara said.

“Great,” Mick muttered.

* * *

The town was a good ten minutes away on a sunny day. Seeing as how it was sunny, but there was also six inches of snow on the ground, it took a little longer.

Laurel was leading them a few feet ahead, Mick next to her, and the two of them were talking about something. Sara watched, simultaneously amused and shocked as Laurel took Mick’s arm when they had to climb up a patch of snow when they got to the shops. Mick helped her up without issue, and the two of them continued on as if nothing had happened.

Leonard went up the slope first and Sara took his hand to pull herself up.

“So Mick and your sister, huh?” Leonard murmured when she reached the top, letting go.

“Right?” She stared after them with a joking frown. “I didn’t see that coming.”

“I’m not sure he sees it, either,” he said, tucking his hands into his pockets as they walked. The town outside of the estate was large enough to have several shops on the road, in addition to a few places to eat. Sara remembered most of them from her last time here, though she was disappointed to see that the classic toy shop was gone, replaced with a cafe. The road had a few cars parked along the edges, but it wasn’t busy by any means, and most of the shoppers appeared to do as they had done and walked. Smoke puffed out of a few chimneys and the smell of scones and cookies drifted out of one of the storefronts. 

Sara spotted a shop along the way that Laurel had already passed. “I’m gonna head in here,” she called up.

Laurel nodded and waved, heading into the next one, Mick following her. Shaking her head at that, she and Leonard went inside. Little jars and bottles lined both sides of the parfumerie, some in gift box sets and some single bottles. Sara moved over to the discount side, looking for some sets.

“So you’re actually going to buy presents?” Leonard asked her as she rummaged through for a few of them. “Wouldn’t it be better to just give them nothing?”

“No.” She pulled out one that had a picture of a bear on it. “Because then I’m cheap or mean.” Oh, this one had a snake on it. She sniffed at both of them, wrinkling her nose. “Which one is worse?” she asked him, holding up the boxes.

Bemused, Leonard took both and smelled them, grimacing as he pointed to the bear.

“Perfect.” She put it aside and grabbed another one with a bear on it. “I have to get them something and make it look like I put the effort in. Then they’re obligated to say thank you and then they have to carry this crap-” she cut herself off as the owner walked by and lowered her voice, “and then it takes up room in their suitcases and, in an ideal world, breaks and ruins their clothes.”

“Clever,” he admitted, picking up one that had a very busty woman on it and passing it over to her. It was terrible.

“Good choice.”

“I try.”

She got enough gift boxes to make up for the people she hadn’t already bought presents for and they went back into the brisk outside air, Leonard carrying one of her bags. In the time they’d been in the shop, a little street market had begun to open up, small, handmade items being put out, jewelry, trinkets, and other things that would make good gifts. Laurel and Mick were wandering among the stalls, so she and Leonard took their time, poking among the wares. She stopped at a place that made handmade nutcrackers and smiled at one.

Leonard stayed at her shoulder and in the gap between a few stalls spoke up. “What’s the incident Ruth mentioned?”

Sara didn’t answer immediately, tapping a little charm of a snowflake to make it spin on its chain, the small blue stones glittering. She should have known he’d catch that.

“‘The incident’ is anything from when the  _ Gambit  _ sank to when I was brought back by the Lazarus Pit. Usually the whole thing.” She shifted her bags to the other hand, walking away from the stall with a smile to the owner. Leonard fell into pace beside her. “They don’t know about when I came back, when I was the Black Canary. So they thought my first funeral was the only funeral.”

“How did you explain it?” he asked, directing her toward a booth that sold cookies and hot chocolate. He bought two of each, passing them over to her as they walked towards the center of the market, a little tree set up and decorated with snow-dusted benches around it. He put his bag down but didn’t sit. Sara brushed it off and sat, taking a sip of her hot chocolate.

“I wasn’t going to. Just let them keep thinking I was dead. But Mom let it slip in a phone call, and all she said was that I’d been lost. Presumed dead, only to be miraculously found years later,” she finished, only mildly sarcastic. “She told them I was rescued and couldn’t remember for a long time, and when I remembered, I came home. Stupid, but that’s the best she could come up with at the moment.”

“Why aren’t they thrilled you’re alive?”

“I wasn’t well-liked to begin with,” she reminded him, taking a bite of the cookie. “And they don’t really believe the memory loss thing, so they’ve...speculated.” She went to take another bite, but the food she’d had began to turn into lead in her stomach. If there was one thing her family loved to do, it was speculate, and some of them got awfully close to the truth.

She waited for the pity, but when she looked up, Leonard just gave her a wry grin. “And I thought my return from the dead was bad.”

“Well, unlike my family, I am glad you’re back,” she said, taking a sip of her drink and seeing Mick and Laurel walking up, bags in hand.

“Why,” Leonard retorted, in that low, drawl of his, “did you miss me, Sara?”

Startled, she looked up at him, something flickering in his eyes before he smothered it under his smirk.

Just before Mick and Laurel got there, she found her voice.

“I did.”

Leonard’s smirk was wiped away, and lines appeared around the corners of his eyes, but he didn’t say anything, just looking up at Mick and Laurel as they approached. Laurel had already put on her gloves and the tip of her nose was red.

“Do you guys want to get a late breakfast, or early lunch or something?” Laurel asked, shivering.

Sara agreed quickly, eager to spend as much time as possible away from Ruth and the family. The four of them went into the little cafe and Mick had lunch while the rest of them had a late breakfast. Then they wandered the market some more, Sara splitting off for a few minutes to pick up another gift before rejoining the group.

It started to get dark, though it was still the afternoon, but Laurel glanced at her phone and winced.

“Mom’s asking for us,” she said apologetically. Both of the guys looked at her and Sara did her best to not get annoyed.

“Let’s head back,” she said brightly, trying to soothe Laurel’s guilt and Mick’s concern and Leonard’s -

Something.

The walk back was quieter and Sara consciously didn’t drag her feet to keep Laurel from looking back at her any more than she already did. Leonard kept pace with her, his free hand in his pocket and a couple of bags in his hand. He’d apparently done his own shopping.

“Anything you’ve got your eye on?” he asked, once they were in sight of the house.

“What?”

“Any jewelry? Trinkets? Family silverware?” He arched a brow. “I saw some expensive paintings, but that might be a bit harder to get through customs.”

Sara almost laughed, definitely smiled. “Did you case the house already?”

“Lance. Did you doubt me?”

She did laugh that time. “Well, there is this little canary figurine, but last I saw it was on Ruth’s nightstand years ago.”

“Oh, a challenge,” he drawled.

“You are a hell of a thief,” she said without thinking. She glanced up at him.

Leonard didn’t seem to react to that reference from a different time. “Yes, I am.”

They reached the house, Sara careful to knock the snow off of her boots before walking in, having made that mistake before. She took off her jacket, hanging it on the rack next to Laurel’s as she welcomed the heat, feeling her cheeks burning. Leonard took the bags from her and started upstairs.

“I’ll put these away.”

He got out of view just before there was a raised voice from the parlor next to the kitchen. “Little Laurie, is that you?!”

Mick raised a brow at her and Sara rolled her eyes as her Uncle David and Aunt Jacqueline came out in a flurry of silks and gemstones. Jacqueline - not Jackie, not ever - swooped down with her dark blonde hair and brown eyes to catch Laurel in a hug. Laurel returned it, smiling, giving David a hug, too.

“It’s good to see you,” Laurel said.

“It has been too long!” David effused. “You look delightful, my dear.” He raised his voice, “Kids, come see your cousin!”

“Sara?!” Jacqueline squealed, finally looking the three inches beyond Laurel to her. “Oh my goodness!”

Sara was pulled into a tight hug, losing her breath for a second and choking on perfume that could rival the bear-box one. She patted Jacqueline on the back. “Hi,” she managed.

“I didn’t think you were coming!” David said. It was as if the two of them had to out-dramatic the other, which Sara found exhausting, but amusing at the same time.

“Here I am,” Sara said. She looked behind him to see one of the cousins approaching with Dinah and Ruth. James, who was just like his father, got to them first, his dark brows leaping up towards his hairline as he saw them.

“Sara?! Laurel?!”

“Oh my god,” Mick muttered.

Sara made sure to hug James a little too tightly, wrinkling his clothes on purpose. He smiled afterward, but kept his distance, trying to smooth them out. Susanne had come up in the meantime, quiet and taking after her Eastern mother more than the Drake side, with her dark hair and complexion. Her husband, Ferdinand, followed her out.

Ferdinand made no move towards Sara but held out his hand to Laurel.

“It’s so good to see you again,” he said, taking one of her hands in both of his.

Laurel’s smile was perfect, even as she stayed the full length of her arm away from him. “Hi, Ferdinand.”

Suddenly, Mick stepped up behind Laurel, right at her shoulder, and Ferdinand let go of her hand, startled.

“Sorry, I’m being so rude,” Laurel said, taking a half step back to put herself in line with Mick in a move that almost looked choreographed. “Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Mick. Mick, this is my Aunt Jacquline, Uncle David, Susanne, James, and Ferdinand.”

“Nice to meet you,” Mick said, baring his teeth at Ferdinand.

“Y-yes, a pleasure.”

“Where are the kids, Susanne?” Laurel asked after a tense moment.

“Oh, Wyatt is taking an internship and wanted to stay at school to prepare,” she said, with a small smile. “And Peter is spending the holidays with his girlfriend in Switzerland.”

“They’re growing up so quickly,” Laurel said.

“I know, aren’t they?” Susanne said. “I’ll show you a picture.” She pulled out her phone, but before she could, another voice joined them.

“Oh my...Sara?”

Turning towards the kitchen, Sara watched her cousin Miranda approach. Time was, the two of them looked more similar than she and Laurel did, and got along just as closely as sisters should have. Miranda had the same long, blonde hair in the same shade, the same blue eyes. She had a dusting of freckles that Sara didn’t and, from the dazzling green dress she wore, a distinct lack of scars.

“Hey, Andy,” Sara said, using the name she’d used when they were younger and closer.

Miranda’s lips stretched into a perfect smile. “Sara.”

She came over and hugged Sara, her heels giving her an inch when they were usually the same height. She stepped back, resting her hands on her shoulders. “It’s been so long.”

“It really has,” Sara said, keeping her smile in place as Miranda looked down at her.

“You look so...cute,” Miranda said, her eyes lingering on her warm, but scuffed boots and hair knotted from the wind.

Sara didn’t have to respond, as Miranda turned to Laurel with another big smile, hugging her and effusing about how wonderful she looked and how nice her blouse was, and how it looked like she never aged. Then her eyes landed on Mick.

“And this is the boyfriend Grandma mentioned?” Miranda said. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Mick said, watching her with the same suspicion he had looked at Ferdinand with.

“I thought you were bringing someone this year,” Miranda said, turning to Sara with a faux look of concern. “A special friend named...Ava, right?”

Of course, Miranda knew. She was Ruth’s favorite and privy to most of the secrets. “Actually, Ava and I broke up a while ago.”

“Oh, poor Sara,” Miranda said with an unsurprised pout. “That’s just too bad. It must be difficult to find true, committed love when you live such an...alternative lifestyle.”

David let out a little, awkward laugh. “Now, Miranda…” he warned, but trailed off, empty threats and promises, as always.

Miranda tapped Sara on the nose like a child and it took everything in Sara not to grab her wrist and snap it in two. “I’m sure you’ll meet someone better than this Ava eventually.”

Sara kept her smile in place, imagining the look on her face when she hit Miranda with her own, severed arm. “Thanks for your concern, but -”

“I’d like to think she already has.”

Miranda stepped back as Leonard came through from the kitchen, obviously using the back staircase on his return. He smiled and handed Ruth a bouquet of winter flowers that Sara hadn’t noticed on their walk back. Ruth looked at them and smiled, a real, honest smile, at him.

“My, what are these for?”

“Just a thank you from Mick and me for letting us join you,” he said graciously. “The crackers you asked for are on the counter.” Then he turned to her aunt and uncle. “Hi. You must be David and Jacquline.”

Thoroughly confounding the rest of the family, Leonard made his way through the introductions without any input from the rest of them, knowing their names before he got to them and getting little more than an automatic “how do you do” in response to his handshake.

“And you,” he said, turning to Miranda with a more pointed smile as he stood next to Sara. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Miranda.”

“Oh?” Miranda said, somewhere between flattered and flustered. “And who are you?”

“I’m Leonard Snart.” He draped his arm over Sara’s shoulders as if they’d done this a thousand times. “Sara’s boyfriend.”

It should have made her year to see Miranda’s jaw hit the floor and hear James’s audible gasp. Dinah was smiling and Mick was smirking and Laurel looked so thrilled, but all Sara could think of was how wonderful it was to have Leonard call himself her boyfriend and touch her with such casual ease.

Miranda continued to stare at the picture they made until Ruth spoke up. “I should get these in some water, and dinner is just about ready.”

It was the most relaxed dinner Sara had ever had at the estate before. Very few people asked her questions and Miranda was almost silent throughout. Laurel and Mick fielded a few with some misdirection, and it was easy to have Jacqueline and David fill the silence. Leonard was as charming as he’d ever been on a job, making Miranda frown throughout the meal, oozing confidence enough to make David and James like him, and polite and respectful, winning over Susanne, Ruth, and Dinah, if there had been any doubt.

Sara left the table without the usual sense of irritation and annoyance, even having laughed at a few of Jacqueline’s stories from their last cruise. With David’s family coming in from Germany, they were tired out and Sara’s group was still adjusting to the time change, so everyone quickly filtered off to their rooms shortly after dinner.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Sara noticed Leonard was already on the makeshift bed on the floor. She did her rounds, second nature, checking the locks on the door and windows, and shutting the closet. She glanced down at him where he was reading a book in the light of the lamp on the nightstand.

“I can take the floor, you know.”

“I know,” he answered without looking up. They’d shared rooms before on missions, sometimes just the two of them, but more often than not with more of the crew. Sara took the ground as often as she could, knowing that her quarters on the  _ Waverider  _ were nicer than anything the rest of them had, but she also knew that when Leonard made up his mind, there was no budging him. Besides, he always threw her bad shoulder at her as a reason.

She still scoffed, unable to help a smile. He moved his gaze to her, a smile playing about his mouth, too.

“I don’t mind,” he assured her. “Okay if I keep the lamp on for a bit longer?”

“Sure.”

She shut off the ceiling lights and slid into the bed. It was in her head to just invite him to share it, but she couldn’t bring herself to face the rejection if he said no. After tonight, with him acting so much like used to before - before the Oculus with the friendliness and easy humor and the whisper of something more… She just wanted to hold onto this feeling a little before she had to come back to reality, even if there was that one little thing niggling at her.

She stared up at the ceiling until Leonard turned out the little lamp, settling onto the comforter she’d all but thrown at him in exchange for taking the bed with a small sigh.

“Snart?” she whispered after a few minutes of silence.

“Lance,” he drawled back.

“Thank you for everything you did today, but I know it’s...I know you’ve got your boundaries, and I don’t want you overstepping those for me.”

He was quiet for long that Sara wasn’t sure he understood and tried to clarify.

“I just...we don’t have to do PDA or anything. I haven’t brought anyone back here before, so we can just say we’re...that we keep it between us, if you want. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable and I know you’re very private about stuff like that.”

“I appreciate that,” he said slowly. “But it’s…” Leonard trailed off and Sara waited patiently, rolling over on her side to face where his voice was coming from. “It’s not entirely about privacy.”

“Then what is it?”

“Trust. Knowing that the person I’m with won’t…”

He didn’t need to finish that sentence. “Okay.”

There was a long exhale. “But I didn’t do anything tonight I wasn’t comfortable with.”

“Okay. Should we…?”

He was silent, forcing her to finish her sentence.

“Should we talk about what is okay to do?” Sara added, “I don’t want to push you into anything, but we don’t have to talk about it if you -”

“No. Boundaries are…” He cleared his throat. “Today was fine.”

“Hugging?”

“Sure.”

“Holding hands?” she asked, feeling a blush creep onto her cheeks at the stupid question and very grateful this was happening in the dark.

“That’d be fine. Sharing...seats would also be fine.”

“Do you mean cuddling?” she asked with a laugh at his interpretation.

He retorted, his voice a little lighter, “Maybe I will make you take the floor.”

“I’m fine with that,” Sara said immediately.

Leonard ignored her. “Anything you’d prefer me not to do?”

“Nothing you don’t already know.”

He hummed his acknowledgment, already knowing not to sneak up on her, not that many people could, and not to grab her when she was sleeping to avoid running the risk of a knife in the eye. He didn’t say anything and Sara wondered if either of them was going to ask the obvious when Leonard finally did.

“Kissing?” 

Sara stared at the darkness, trying to articulate it. “I...on the cheek or something is fine, but I don’t...I don’t want to fake that. That's too...real.”

She couldn’t kiss him again, not if it wasn’t real for both of them. She bit her lip, almost tasting her tears from the last time.

“Okay." He cleared his throat again and shuffled. “Night.”

“Goodnight,” she whispered, her eyes open for a long time after that. When she finally fell asleep, she dreamed of a blue light and the taste of chocolate and the burn of salt.


	4. 9 Subtle Insults

Leonard had just finished in the bathroom the next morning, up earlier than anyone else, when he heard Sara’s phone alarm going off. She rolled over in bed with a groan, grabbing it and turning it off. She sat up, blinking at the phone before moving to get up.

“Fighting the jetlag?” Leonard asked, tugging on his shoes. The chill of the early English air had hit him on his little pallet on the floor, not that he’d say anything about it, and he figured, the more layers the better.

She smiled at him, a little tiredly. “Something like that.”

“I’ll see you downstairs,” he told her, getting a yawn and nod in response.

As she went into the bathroom, Leonard grabbed his jacket and slipped out into the hall, taking the back staircase down and going into the kitchen. He enjoyed being up before anyone else and being able to explore without fielding questions or small talk. Setting the coffee to percolate, he leaned on the counter and looked out the windows across the way.

The Drake estate sprawled over at least ten acres, based on the size of the house and the fence line they’d passed on their way to town yesterday. Only two floors, the footprint of the house was massive, with an entryway, a parlor with plush chairs and a fireplace, dining room, billiard room, sunroom, kitchen, two bathrooms, the master suite, and what looked to be former servants’ quarters, in addition to the miscellaneous closets and storage space on just the first floor. Upstairs boasted a small library and office, which he wanted to explore more, as well as ten bedrooms, most of which had their own attached bathroom. He’d been in and out of all of the rooms already.

Outside, he’d seen the path they’d taken to town, which ran parallel to the main gravel drive they’d come up their first night here, but had yet to see much more of the grounds. He thought he’d seen an honest-to-god hedge maze out there beneath the snow.

He didn’t hear anything, but Sara was suddenly coming down the stairs. Just like yesterday, she looked (and he’d never say it aloud) cute in another bright sweater, this one green today. He’d admit that the makeup looked nice, but he always thought she looked nice - makeup, none, or sweat-stained from a workout.

As she hit the ground floor, he saw her eyes dart around, looking for family members.

“Just us,” he murmured. “Coffee?” He handed her a cup as she walked over to him without waiting for an answer, knowing from experience that Sara without caffeine in the morning wasn’t good for anyone.

“Thanks,” she said, obviously relieved. She did as she always did, taking a tiny sip of the scalding coffee and wincing, before doing it again two seconds later. He watched her for a moment, bemused, until he started to notice the bags almost hidden by makeup and the lines around her mouth when she lowered the mug.

“Sleep okay?”

She blinked, managing a crooked smile. “I woke up a few times, is all.”

Drinking his coffee in silence, he decided to let that go for now. But there had been a few too many secrets on this trip already and he wasn’t keen on staying in the dark for much longer. “So, Miranda…”

Sara huffed out a half-laugh at that. “Yeah, she’s fun, right?”

“Very charming.”

She laughed again and he was almost impressed at how much she’d hid from her family about her feelings. But he was willing to bet that none of her family members had ever seen Sara fighting before, they’d never seen her as a leader, or taking out an enemy. So they wouldn’t recognize how Sara had always placed herself nearest to the exits when her family was around, or how when Miranda had been talking to her, how her feet had shifted into the ready stance she used in a fight, how her smile had gotten so very disconnected from her eyes when she tried to pretend something wasn’t bothering her.

It was part of the reason he’d done what he did. Oh, sure, part of it was for the theatrics. He did  _ love  _ to make an entrance. But the larger part was something ingrained in the time he’d spent on the Legends, backing up his teammate without question, throwing himself into the fray, and damn the consequences.

And a third, unspoken part that had finally sealed the deal and made him move forward, but that was irrelevant.

Sara tried to take another drink, then turned to set the obviously still-hot coffee down on the counter, looking at the swirls in the marble. Leonard stayed where he was, facing the windows, but his eyes turned to her.

“She used to be my best friend,” she said quietly, like a secret.

“Little terrors, were you?”

The corner of her mouth lifted and she glanced up at him. “The worst.” Then she looked down again. “When I was young, we used to come here every Christmas and it wasn’t…” She let out a little sigh and gestured. “It wasn’t like this. I liked it. Andy and I would stay in touch all year, but she went to a boarding school after fifth grade and missed a couple Christmasses, and when she came back, she was  _ Miranda _ , then.”

Leonard could easily picture a little gap-toothed Sara Lance being rejected by a posh and arrogant Miranda. “Family sucks,” he said simply after a moment.

Sara raised her brows and clinked her mug against his. “No shit.”

There was a loud creaking from above them, and a few voices carrying down the stairwell. He couldn't make out who it was, but he knew it wasn't Mick.

Sara took a little breath and faced the stairwell, shifting her feet below her.

He glanced at the stairwell, then at the back door. “Wanna go for a walk?”

She continued to stare at the steps for a moment, the voices getting closer. Then she nodded, pushing away from the counter and abandoning her coffee. “Yeah.”

Leonard picked his jacket up from off the table and crossed to the door, opening it and ushering her outside quickly. He shut the door behind them as they beat a hasty escape towards the back of the house, out of sight of the kitchen.

It was cold, definitely, but there wasn’t any wind and the sun was shining for now, though the clouds looming on the horizon promised bad weather soon. He had to squint his eyes against the sun, reflecting off the swathes of white snow that covered the ground behind the house. There indeed was a hedge maze, but Sara stayed on a paved walkway that went along the outside of it. She crossed her arms and shivered, but smiled as she looked around the snow covered garden.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” Leonard asked after a few moments of companionable silence around one side of the maze and beginning the walk parallel to the house. He was just carrying his jacket, the cold waking him up more than his half-finished cup of coffee inside.

“Everyone else gets in today. I’m sure there’ll be dinner or something.”

“I meant more, what’s on the agenda for you?”

Sara shrugged. “This. Avoiding the rest of them.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

She cut her eyes over at him, frowning a little.

“Look,” he said, putting his hand on his chest, “I am intimately familiar with an expeditious retreat and still hold that it’s an underutilized move you should consider more often, but you always seem to prefer facing things head-on.”

She smiled a little, looking back at the walkway. “So why am I running now?” She finished the implied question.

“It’s not your usual.”

Sara lifted her hands up to her mouth, breathing into them for a moment before tucking them back under her arms. “I tried talking to Miranda and Adam last time I was here. They’re...what they do is different than Ruth. I asked them what they had against me, what did I do to them.”

She stopped and looked at the house. “They said they thought I was a liar and a screw-up, who hurt my sister for her own selfish gain, abandoned my family, and only came back when I had nowhere else to go. That the best thing I ever did for my family was die, and then I had to screw that up, too.”

He stopped, forcing himself to keep his eyes on Sara, because if he looked at that house, if he kept moving, he wouldn’t stop until -

“I can’t fight that.” She shrugged one shoulder. “They were right.”

The air left his lungs for a moment at that. “Lance -”

“Len,” she interrupted gently. “They were. I was terrible and selfish and I hurt Laurel.”

“You were a kid,” he insisted.

“I was that young, and I still knew better. And then Laurel was okay with Tommy and Dad was doing better, and Mom had gone back to school and...then I came back. And I know it wasn’t my fault, but everything started falling apart again. Dad died. Laurel was…” She shook her head. “I know that things have changed now, and I’m not the same person I was when the  _ Gambit  _ went down, but it doesn’t make them wrong.”

“So you just let them keep believing all that by hiding?”

“Better than what was going on last night,” she countered.

“Dinner seemed fine to me.”

“That’s because of you, and you know it,” she said, putting her hands into her pockets as she started forward again. “But it’s fine.”

“Oh, is it?” He vehemently disagreed.

“I don’t care what they think,” she told him, lying to him or herself, he wasn’t sure. “I’m only here to help Laurel and Mom.”

“And you can do that from out here?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but it was ruined by a shiver.

“Running and hiding doesn’t suit you,” he said.

“Like playing the hero suited you?” she shot back unexpectedly.

Leonard paused and Sara went still, staring up at him. She didn’t backpedal or laugh or try to make a joke. She stayed still and quiet and waited. He could have said something to that obvious reference, just like he could have said something about her ‘hell of a thief’ comment yesterday. He could have brought it up, into the open, and forced her to acknowledge what neither one of them had yet. He could have gotten some closure or even better -

“Didn’t it?” he threw back at her, nothing like a hero and everything like a coward, putting it back on her, away from him.

Something like disappointment flashed in her eyes and she lowered her gaze to the snow-covered ground. “If I stay in there, it’ll just get worse.”

He experienced a moment of regret that he hadn’t taken that chance, but this was...untested waters for him. He didn’t know where he stood and he didn’t want to make a stand until he knew if it was on cement or sand.

“Then we turn it back on them,” he said, allowing the chance to vanish completely. “Make them look like the assholes while you stay cool and get to keep an eye on Laurel.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Making people look like assholes is all I do, Lance. It is that easy.”

She let out an unwilling laugh, part exasperation and part humor. She stared at the house for a moment longer, then shrugged. “Why not? Let’s try it your way. But you’ve gotta deliver.”

“Have I ever let you down?”

The look he got then was unexpected, shifting through a few emotions too quickly for him to figure out what it was. Sara smiled, and whatever it was vanished entirely. “If we spend more time in there, it also means more acting like a couple.”

He had been aware of that. And it hadn’t bothered him. Their conversation last night had been helpful in making sure he wouldn’t overstep any boundaries, and though the revelation about the kiss at the Oculus, if that’s what she was referring to at all, had kept him from sleeping as well as he should have, the idea of being...close to Sara wasn’t unappealing, even if he might learn to regret it when this was all over and they went back to the  _ Waverider  _ as friends.

He said none of that. Instead he said, “I’m sure I’ll find some way to live.”

* * *

Laurel blamed the jetlag for her misstep. Usually, she was so much more careful about this, but she’d just been so desperate for coffee that she’d gotten dressed and hurried into the hall without checking. Mick was just finishing in the shower; she could have waited another few minutes, but the caffeine headache was so bad, she just moved without thinking.

“Laurel,” Ferdinand said, almost right at her door.

Forcing a quick smile, Laurel looked at her cousin-in-law (was that even a thing? She didn’t think so). “Good morning. Sleep well?”

“Yes, I did, thank you. Heading downstairs?”

Like she could say anything else. “Yeah.”

They walked down together and Laurel could smell coffee already. Hopefully, that meant someone was awake and down there, which might mean -

Her hopeful thoughts vanished as they reached the empty kitchen. There were a couple of mugs on the counter. Sara and Leonard had probably already left, and she didn’t hope to see them back anytime soon. Laurel stepped away from Ferdinand as she went to get a mug.

“Coffee?” she offered, opening the cabinet.

“I can get it.” He stepped up behind her, reaching for his own mug and effectively pressing her between him and the counter. Laurel quickly slid to the side, out of his way, but he just gave her that smarmy little smile.

“How’s Susanne?” she asked, pouring her coffee and stepping away as he came to fill up his mug. She didn’t sit down, but flitted a bit around the room, making sure he couldn’t get her in a corner again. It was exhausting, this constant dance, but she hated the alternative more.

“She’s fine,” he said, a little dismissively. “Worries about the boys. I know they’ll be fine. They take after me.”

Laurel sipped her coffee, well aware that anything she had to say about that would not be polite.

“I was glad to hear you were coming to celebrate with us this year,” Ferdinand continued.

“Yeah, Sara and I are glad to be here,” she said, enjoying the faint tightening of Ferdinand’s eyes and the subconscious rub of his wrist.

“Of course,” he said. Then he shook his head, that smile returning. “I’m so happy Sara found it in her very busy schedule to come. But you know, I am very much looking forward to the party again. It’s always so...memorable.”

“Really?” Laurel countered. “Seems like another dull party to me.”

Ferdinand laughed and took a step towards her. Laurel started to go for the sugar bowl, but he changed direction quickly, putting the hand still holding coffee on the counter and leaning in. “I seem to remember some very fine moments, under the mistletoe.”

“Then we remember that very differently,” Laurel said curtly. She looked down at his hand. “Now move, please.”

“We can just -”

“We won’t just anything,” Laurel said, lowering her coffee. “I’m here to celebrate the holidays with my family, your  _ wife _ . Not you. Let go.”

He reached up and Laurel batted his hand away.

“Touch me, and I’ll show you what Sara taught me,” Laurel said, keeping her voice low.

“Please,” he said with another little laugh. “I’ll just -”

There was a creak on the stair and Ferdinand turned. Laurel quickly darted away from him, abandoning her coffee and hoping it wasn’t Ruth or, worse, Susanne -

Mick was leaning on the stairwell. For a big man, he moved so quietly, she noticed. He was dressed in much the same he had been; long sleeves and a jacket already on. His eyes moved over to Laurel briefly before sliding back to Fernando.

“By all means,” Mick said in that low rumble, “finish what you were gonna say.”

“What?” Ferdinand said.

Mick stepped into the kitchen, seeming to grow even taller with every footstep. “You were saying you’d just do something. What would you do?”

Ferdinand stuttered something, “You misunderstand. She and I were just talking and she -”

“I might be big and dumb,” Mick interrupted. “But I don’t think I misunderstood anythin’. What I heard was that she told you to back off. And you didn’t.”

He was right in front of Ferdinand now, the swarthy man dwarfed by Mick both in height and width, as trapped as he had just made Laurel. Mick leaned in, inches from Fernando’s face. “Do it again, and I’ll break whatever she doesn’t.” He looked down. “I’d like some coffee.”

Ferdinand handed him the mug he had in his hand, and Mick reached past him to grab Laurel’s cup, too.

“Thanks,” Mick rumbled. He turned his back on Ferdinand and moved towards Laurel as if nothing had happened. He handed her her original cup of coffee, then took a sip of Ferdinand’s, making a face. Without a word, he went to the sink and dumped it out, pouring himself another one, completely ignoring Ferdinand as he stood dazed for a moment, then went back to the stairs and started up without a word.

Mick leaned on the counter, watching Ferdinand leave, then looked at Laurel. “Sorry.”

She blinked, still frozen from...everything. “What?”

“Sorry if I shouldn’t have said anythin’. You had it under control.”

“I didn’t, actually,” she admitted, pulling her cup a little closer to her chest as her hands shook a little.

“Had me convinced,” he said, adding some sugar to his coffee before taking a seat at the table. “You lit a spark under him.”

If he was lying, he was very good. Not that she expected anything less of a man who hung around assassin Sara Lance and criminal Leonard Snart.

She took the seat next to him, trying a smile. “Thank you for saying something. Ferdinand is…”

“A fuckin’ asshole?” he finished, glancing down at her.

“That just about sums it up,” she agreed, with a little laugh. “He doesn't take no for an answer.”

“Figured that. He gives you a hard time again, you let me know. I can always set him on fire.”

Laurel laughed, and that seemed to be Mick’s goal, because he smiled and took another drink. She put her hand on his arm. “Thank you,” she repeated. Mick nodded and shifted away after a minute, tucking his hand under his other arm as he sipped his coffee.

They were quiet for another few minutes, then the sounds of more people coming downstairs ruined the reprieve. Miranda and Susanne, with Ferdinand trailing behind and James clattering down after them.

“Good morning,” Miranda said, looking completely put together in another holiday dress. “Nice to see  _ some  _ of us appreciate getting up at a reasonable time.”

Laurel sipped her coffee with a raised brow, not doing as Miranda obviously wanted and asking what she meant. Eventually, James gave in, though.

“Where is Sara at this hour?”

Miranda smiled as she got herself a drink. “It’s so hard to keep tabs on her. Showing up one minute and disappearing the next.”

Ferdinand laughed a little. “Must be the record-holder.”

Mick put his coffee down a little harder than necessary and Ferdinand jumped, the smile disappearing quickly. Laurel wasn’t certain what would have happened next, but Ruth entered the room, as Dinah, David, and Jacqueline came down.

“Good morning,” Ruth said, smiling at all of them. Her eyes rested briefly on Mick. “Glad to see almost everyone’s up so early.” She looked around again. “Where is Sara?”

“Still in bed, it seems,” Miranda said, sipping her drink smugly.

Laurel wanted to slap the look off her face but satisfied herself with exchanging a look with her mom. Sara’s tendency to disappear was easy to understand, but it did leave her and her mother in an awkward position. Laurel wished she could disappear as easily, but -

“Well,” Ruth said, “we can’t wait for her. We’ve got to decorate the tree and -”

The back door opened up and cut off Ruth as Leonard and Sara, wearing a jacket that was much too big for her, came in, letting in a rush of cold.

“Good morning,” Sara said with a smile, her cheeks reddened from the cold. She glanced over at Laurel and the smile turned a little warmer.

“You’re up,” Ruth said, a little stunned.

“Have been for a while,” Leonard said. “An early morning’s the sign of a productive mind, right?” he recited, glancing at her.

She blinked. “W-well, yes.”

Laurel lifted her mug to her lips, but didn’t drink. The smile on her face made it impossible. Sara took off the jacket and handed it to Leonard, who hung it up on the rack by the door. While they were occupied, Ruth tried to pick up her train of thought.

“So, today, I thought Laurel and Mick could decorate the tree. Miranda and Susanne, could you make the wreaths?”

“Of course, Grandma,” Miranda said with a smile.

“Ferdinand and James, I need some stuff from the market, if you don’t mind taking the car down. Dawson and Tiana will arrive just before noon, and Deirdre and the boys will be here right about suppertime. Dinah, you, Jacqueline, and David can help me with the cleaning. Sound good to everyone?”

Laurel noted the obvious, but no one spoke up. Sara merely smiled to herself, dropping her eyes and -

“How can Sara and I help, Ruth?” Leonard asked, putting his arm around Sara’s waist.

Ruth, and everyone else, were nonplussed again. No one questioned Ruth, no one pointed out the obvious favoritism, no one did it.

Except, apparently, Leonard.

Ruth hesitated a moment, then said, in an odd voice, “You can help decorate the tree.”

“Great,” Sara said, meeting Ruth’s eyes with a smile.

“Yes,” Ruth said in that same strange voice. “That’s...yes. Then let’s get to work everyone. Lots to do before the party.”

Everyone lingered in the kitchen for a few minutes, filling up cups of coffee as they dispersed to take on their tasks. Laurel grabbed her mug and led the way to the parlor, where the bare tree was already standing, two boxes of ornaments waiting beside it. Mick brought up the rear, closing the doors behind them. Laurel looked at Sara, who was still wearing a shadow of a smile.

“Thought you were just going to avoid them?” she asked quietly, seeing Leonard and Mick sharing a quick, quiet word among themselves.

“Trying a new tactic this year,” Sara answered, opening the first box.

“Uhuh,” Laurel said, knocking her shoulder gently. “Well, I’m glad. This might actually be fun.”

* * *

The morning had been...festive. It was easy to forget the issues from earlier when he, Blondie, Snart, and Counselor were shut away in their own little room. Blondie had started playing music on her phone, which meant Laurel commented on the choice of holiday songs and the two of them started a good-natured argument. Snart left for a while and came back with hot chocolate for all of them, and they decorated the tree with the Counselor’s direction, having a decent time of it.

They finished well before lunch and decided to stay in the parlor, Snart pulling out that ever-present deck of cards and dealing them all in. Mick watched in growing amusement as Laurel won the first hand, then the second, then the third…

“I think you’re losing your touch,” Sara observed as Laurel beat him again.

“Shut it, Lance,” Leonard told her, ignoring her grin as he dealt them all in again.

When Laurel and Sara left to get the refills after beating Snart again, Mick sat back on the couch, spreading his arms along the back.

“Any issues?” Snart asked, shuffling the cards.

“Had to scare off the married guy already. Had Counselor in the corner of the kitchen ‘fore I came down.” Leonard looked up and Mick was quick to add. “Didn’t do nothin’. Just scared him a little.”

“Not sure I’d mind if you did do something,” Leonard said quietly. “Hell of a family.”

“Blondie?” Mick asked, as if it could be anything else.

He lowered his eyes to the cards again. “Takes a few too many of their comments to heart.”

“The Miranda chick, right? I tried to tell you when we got here, they spewed some stuff about enjoyin’ her funeral.”

“That wasn’t the half of it,” Leonard muttered.

Mick debated on asking more, but seeing Leonard’s fingers bend the cards slightly, he decided to wait on that. Instead, he took a different track. “Nice show last night and this morning, you and Blondie.”

Leonard didn’t reply, but lifted his eyes in what would have been a chilling gaze had Mick had a little more sense of self-preservation.

“Easy to believe you two are really somethin’,” he continued with a grin.

The doors opened and Sara and Laurel walked back in, ending the conversation, probably just in time for Mick’s safety. Laurel sat back down on the couch, apparently oblivious to Mick’s arm behind her. He didn’t move it and ignored Snart’s little smirk.

They played cards until there was a commotion in the hall. Laurel got to her feet with a smile already fixed in place, but her arms were crossed in front of her. Blondie wasn’t smiling and took her time getting to her feet. Mick exchanged a look with Snart. This was the other half of the problems - Brandon, the boyfriend, and Adam, the one who ragged on Sara.

Mick got to his feet without his customary groan and followed Laurel out of the door, Snart and Sara behind them.

The group coming in looked tired from traveling. A gentleman who looked like a more tired David walked in, a small and pretty brunette on his arm. Must be Dawson and Tiana. There was a dark-looking man behind them, same eyes as Tiana, with none of the smiling humor. Then behind them was a couple - a tall, corn-bread kind of man with blonde hair and brown eyes and a bubbly little brunette with curls hanging off his arm.

Mick hung back as the hugging began, just watching. Sara hugged Dawson and Tiana, but made no move towards any of the kids, nor they to her. She didn’t leave, hanging back near Snart, his arm over her shoulders. Quinn focused on Miranda, the two of them hugging and whispered already. Laurel hugged all of them, save Brandon. When he stepped forward, Laurel turned away and gestured to Mick.

“And this is my boyfriend.”

Still shook him a little to be called that, but he could play the part. He moved to stand beside Laurel, his hand on her back as he said hi to the newcomers. They didn’t try to hug him.

Lunch started off quiet, sandwiches and pasta salad spreading out over the table. But Dawson appeared to be a bit more curious than anyone else.

“So, how’d you and Laurel meet?” he asked Mick, drawing the attention of most of the others.

“I work with Snart and Sara,” Mick said after he swallowed. “The three of us hang out, and then Laurel started to join us. Kinda just fell together.”

He saw Quinn whispering something to Miranda, but ignored that. It was the story he and Laurel had come up with, and it fit with the brief talk he’d had with Snart.

“And what kind of work do you do?” Tiana asked with a smile.

Snart took that one. “We work for the government. Curation, retrieval, and removal.”

“Like museums?” James asked.

“Something like that,” Leonard answered.

“Sounds important,” David observed with a smile.

“If it’s so important, how’d Sara get a job there?” Miranda muttered beneath her breath to Adam. The two of them grinned, having been quiet enough for the rest of the table, but still loud enough for Sara to hear. She ignored them, eating her sandwich. Mick opened his mouth, but Leonard was faster.

“Sara’s been running our division for a few years now,” he said. “Hell of a boss.”

Miranda and Adam both stared at him, and Leonard glared back at them. Mick caught Blondie’s gaze as she looked at Snart. Too bad Snart missed it.

After lunch, Mick ended up helping Snart and James fix one of the lights on the front porch and clearing off some of the snow to prevent it from icing over. He was just climbing off the roof when he saw a car approaching. James gasped and darted back inside, making Leonard shrug.

They climbed down as the rest of the family came out onto the porch, a lot more whispers this time than any other arrival. Mick frowned and got closer to Laurel in the crowd.

“I thought this was the only one you actually liked,” he muttered.

“It is,” Laurel said, a little confused. “Deirdre is great, and Emmet and Henry are awesome. I haven’t met Lucas yet, but -”

“Just remember Lucas’s deformity,” Jacquline whispered loudly as the car parked in the driveway and turned off. “Don’t make a point of it.”

“Yeah, he and Sara will get along,” Quinn muttered. Leonard glared at her, but she wasn’t looking.

“Think you just did, dear,” David said mildly.

“I’m just saying -”

The doors opened and a few figures got out. In the driver’s seat was a tall, dark man, with eyes that swept over the people on the porch. The passenger side was a slightly shorter man, a little thicker build, with Laurel’s eyes and Sara’s grin. He had a kid’s jacket with him and opened up the door behind him. From the other side was a woman who was almost identical to Dinah, down to the curls, and who grinned upon seeing her. Dinah moved through the group and jogged across the snow to her sister, hugging her tightly, their conversation lost in the snow.

Emmet and Henry came up, between them a kid, maybe five or six, he was bad with ages, wearing a pair of new jeans and a bright blue sweater. He clearly wasn’t either one of theirs, not with those olive cheeks and black hair. Mick might not have been well versed in the goings-on of the world (at least, not this current world), but he could recognize a refugee when he saw one. And he didn’t even need the burn scars all down the right side of the kid’s face, disappearing into his sweater and reappearing on his hand.

The family started in, most of them hugging Emmet and Henry and patted Lucas awkwardly on his left shoulder. Emmet quickly made his way over to Laurel and gave her an exasperated look before pulling her into a tight hug.

“I’d say I’m glad to see you, but I really don’t want either one of us to be here,” he said, his voice almost as low as Leonard’s. “What the hell could have dragged you back?”

“Mom,” Laurel answered, pulling back to look at him. “You’re looking good.”

“I’m looking ancient,” he corrected with an easy grin. “But thanks. You, as always, are beautiful.” He leaned past Laurel to see Sara standing behind her, a grin on her face. “Oh, you are a sight for sore eyes, Sar-bear.”

“Shut up,” Sara said but hugged him anyway.

“Seriously, though, if I had to put up with the cousins on my own, I’d drink myself into a stupor.”

“Is that not still the plan?” asked Henry, joining them. “Hey,” he said to Mick and Leonard, who gave him the briefest of introductions. Lucas followed Henry, sticking close to his heels and eyeing everyone suspiciously.

Laurel held out her hand, her smile bright. “Hi, Lucas. I’m Laurel.”

He glanced at her hand and took it, more shiny scars spreading over his fingers. It didn’t seem to bother her any, and Sara greeted him the same way. The kid seemed to relax a little bit, hanging close to their group as Ruth started talking again.

“Well, let’s move this inside. I’m sure everyone would like a chance to freshen up before dinner?”

Taking that as the not-so-subtle suggestion it was, they all returned to their rooms. Mick pulled out one of the shirts Leonard had suggested he bring, doing up the buttons as Laurel stepped into the bathroom.

“What’s the deal with Lucas?” he asked.

“Emmet adopted him a couple of years ago. I don’t know much more than that,” came Laurel’s voice.

Mick grunted, finishing the buttons on his shirt and pulling the cuffs down. Wasn’t anything fancy, but better than the henleys he’d been sporting over the past few days. Laurel stepped out of the bathroom, fixing her earring on, which was lucky, as it gave Mick a second to collect himself. No longer was Laurel wearing the blouses and slacks, but a delicate red dress that put Miranda to shame, in his mind, at least. Letting his eyes drift down and back up once, he focused on his cuff. She looked up, blinked, and smiled at him.

“You look good,” she observed.

“Just about to say the same to you.”

Her smile got wider and they went to the door, catching Snart and Blondie just stepping out. Snart always cleaned up nice, his slacks and shirt looking a bit neater than Mick’s. Blondie had made an effort, too, a drapey gold shirt over dark leggings and boots. Leonard’s eyes were on Blondie, to no one’s surprise.

Laurel smiled at her sister, then led the way downstairs, taking the main staircase and entering the dining room. There were already people milling around, but they were still waiting on some of them. David was already there, holding a bottle of wine and approaching them.

“Wine with dinner?” he asked.

They all said yes, except for Laurel. “None for me, thanks,” she said, but David was already turning away.

The rest of the family approached and the shuffling for seats began. Ruth was down on one end, Miranda next to her and Quinn right by Miranda, followed by Brandon. James and Adam were grouped between their parents. Susanne and Ferdinand were almost as far away from Laurel as possible, much to Mick’s pleasure. Dinah and Deirdre were in the center, talking across the table to one another. Leonard took the opposite head of the table, making Mick chuckle and take his right-hand side, with Laurel next to him. Blondie took the left, next to Lucas, and Henry and Emmet next to him.

“A toast,” Ruth said, lifting her wineglass once it got quiet. “To having the whole family together again for the first time in two years. I’m so glad you’re here to celebrate the holidays.”

Similar things were murmured, and Mick saw Sara and Leonard exchange a look, then everyone took a sip of their wine. It was good and heavy stuff, even if he preferred something a little less pretentious, so he took a big swig of it. Mick noticed that Laurel lifted her full wine glass, but didn’t drink, putting it down. He grabbed the potatoes in front of him and took some, trying to pass it over, but her eyes seemed fixed on the wine.

“Counselor,” he muttered, getting her attention. She blinked and took the plate, passing it along.

“You good?”

“I’m fine,” she said, a little too brightly. Her eyes drifted back to the drink, and he remembered the way she stared at the champagne on the trip.

Making a decision, Mick quickly downed his own drink, the rest of the Drakes too busy to notice, and switched his glass with Laurel’s. She watched his movements without saying anything and he saw a tension seep out of her shoulders that he hadn’t noticed before. She smiled up at him, taking the next plate without issue.

Most of the dinner was focused on Deirdre (a retired museum curator) and Emmet and Henry (owned a business together doing something he didn’t care about). Mick wasn’t paying much attention to the other side of the table, and happy for it, until there was a screech from that end.

“Oh my god!” Miranda shouted.

Mick winced, still not used to the effusions of that particular branch of the family, and looked down in time to see the new girl, Quinn, flaunting a big ol’ diamond on her finger.

“Brandon and I are engaged!” she announced with a big smile and a kiss from her fiance.

Congratulations were had, and then champagne started mixing in with the wine. Mick kept the charade up, but David was on the refill job, and he was a little too good at it. Soon, conversation shifted on from the announcement and David slowed down on the wine, and Mick was able to just watch. So he watched Lucas.

He watched as Jacqueline passed him something, awkwardly careful not to touch his hand, as if the scars were catching. He watched as James talked to him, his eyes kept drifting to the scars as he lost track of what he was saying. He watched as Lucas’s mouth stamped into a line. The kid wasn’t stupid, he knew what was going on.

So maybe it was that, or maybe it was the sixth glass of wine/champagne, but he made a decision. Hands in his lap, he undid the cuffs of his shirt and rolled it up to his forearms. He caught Snart’s look, the thief not saying anything, but watching him.

It’s not like he was ashamed of his scars. Not the way Snart was. But he’d been treated like Lucas had for a long time. He just got used to hiding them because it was easier, not ‘cause he gave a damn about other people seeing them. Sleeves rolled up, he put his forearm on the table and looked down to where Miranda was sitting, chatting with the old biddie at the end.

“Mind passin’ the potatoes?” he said, just a touch too loud and with a gesture from his arm. Most of the family immediately looked over at him, and he saw no less than four double-takes as they noticed. Miranda passed the potatoes to the person next to her and they made their way down to him. He spooned a few onto his plate, well aware of the stares and ignoring them, save one.

Looking up, he caught Lucas’s brown eyes watching him. Not staring. Not judging. Not pitying. But understanding. So Mick took a big bite of potato and winked at him.

The kid smiled for the first time that night.

He didn’t mind when the family’s conversation seemed a bit more hushed, glances kept getting tossed at him throughout the meal. Quinn kept trying to get Laurel’s attention, who was talking across the table to Deirdre and obviously ignoring her. Henry caught Mick’s eye from across the table and gave him a little nod, which Mick returned.

“Excuse me,” Laurel said to Mick after a minute or two, “I have to use the restroom.” As she stood, she put her hand on his forearm, over the scars, without so much as a flinch. Mick hid a smile, but Blondie didn’t bother. Miranda noticed, her eyes widening and Quinn went abruptly silent. Giving him a brief smile, Laurel left the room. When she came back, the conversation had almost renewed.

After such a heavy meal and more people traveling in, it seemed to be another early night. Laurel announced she was heading to the room and Mick followed her before Brandon or Fernando could, Snart and Blondie trailing after them, but he heard her mention something about cards.

They got in their room and Laurel shut the door behind them, leaning on it for a moment, her eyes closed.

“You good?” he asked, leaning on the dresser by the bed.

She smiled before opening her eyes. “Yes.”

Mick wasn’t going to press, heading to his bag. Laurel went over to the bed and sat down, undoing the straps on her heels. “I don’t drink,” she said abruptly.

“Figured that.”

“I used to. A lot. Too much,” she added quietly. “It got bad around the time Sara came back, but it had started long before that. I got help, and I haven’t had a drink in over two years. So, thank you, for dinner, I don’t...I know it’s a lot and -”

“Counselor,” he interrupted gruffly. “I’m more than happy to take your extra drinks. No problems.”

She let out a little laugh, but it sounded off. False, somehow. He didn’t like it, but he didn’t know what to say.

“Hell of a day,” Laurel muttered as she dropped her shoe onto the ground. “First Ferdinand, then Brandon, and then dinner…”

“Made it through, though,” Mick pointed out. “One more day down. And your mom seems happy with her sis here.”

“Yeah,” Laurel admitted.

“And Snart’s drivin’ Ruth crazy by bein’ so damn agreeable.”

She laughed, it sounding a little better. “Yes, he is. And Sara seems better than she normally is.”

“All in all, not so bad.”

Laurel got to her feet, losing a few inches without her heels. She moved towards him and surprised him with a hug, her head against his chest. Mick stared down at her, unsure of what to do, something stuttering in his chest that he hadn’t felt since Amaya had said goodbye.

“Thanks.”

He cleared his throat as she let go and stepped back. “Sure.”

She gave him a little smile and grabbed her pajamas before disappearing into the bathroom. He got ready for bed while she was in there, trading places when she came out. It was early, but he enjoyed getting more sleep and wasn’t going to complain. When he came out, she was already in bed. He flicked off the light and got in the chair, settling back and closing his eyes.

“Hey, Mick?”

He grunted, not opening his eyes.

“I don’t think you’re big and dumb.”

He frowned, sitting up in the chair a little and looking over at her form on the bed. She was lying on her back, staring up, her eyes open. “What?”

“This morning, you said you were just big and dumb. I don’t think you are. I think you’re much smarter than you want people to know and unexpectedly sweet.”

He snorted at that one and saw her smile a little in the darkness.

“You are,” she insisted. “And I’ll put up with Ferdinand quite happily if it means I get to see more of that side of you.”

“Think you’re sleep-deprived, Counselor,” he mumbled, settling back against the chair, an uncomfortable heat spreading across his neck and shoulders.

She laughed a little. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. Goodnight, Mick.”

“‘Night.”


	5. 8 Thoughtful Takedowns

Sara was almost having fun.

It was strange to admit when this place was such a center of terrible memories for her, but even with some of the snide comments she heard, yesterday and today had been enjoyable. She and Leonard got up early enough for another walk, getting back in time to greet Laurel and Mick as they came down for coffee and breakfast.

Henry joined them next, with Lucas in tow and Emmet yawning behind them. Lucas eyed Leonard warily, but the thief shuffled the deck of cards and glanced at him.

“Know how to play poker?” he asked.

Lucas shook his head. 

“Come on,” Leonard said. “I’ll teach you how to beat your dads.”

“Just not how to beat Laurel,” Mick added with a grin.

Everyone laughed and by the time the rest of the family was up, they’d taught Lucas the basics and Sara watched Leonard sliding cards to the kid so he could beat the rest of them, going unnoticed by everyone except her and Emmet on Lucas’s other side. Sara smiled when Leonard looked up at her, getting a little smirk in return.

After breakfast, Ruth had a few more errands to run. They’d spent the day cleaning and fixing up a few things around the house for the party. Lunch was mostly on their own and Miranda claimed a headache for dinner, making it almost pleasant. Quinn made a few comments about her engagement and Adam added a few of the usual about Sara, but they were easy to brush off. Sara watched Mick take the wine David insisted on giving to Laurel. They played cards for a while before everyone headed off to bed. Leonard came up to the room with her, but left for a while, and she fell asleep before he came back. 

The next morning started much the same. Ruth had a few more errands for them. One was going to a winery in the city a little further outside of town for the booze for the party. Then another trip back into town to grab some of the food, and dropping off some donations of food at the market.

Emmet and Deirdre volunteered to get the wine, Henry opting to stay home with Lucas. Sara was just going to hang out with Leonard, but Deirdre grabbed her and Dinah.

“Come and join us,” she said, hooking her arms between the two of them.

Leonard cast her a glance, brow arched, but she just waved, feeling comfortable enough with them. He took his cards and followed Henry and Lucas, another quick look at her. Sara managed to smile before she was dragged out of the door.

Emmet got into the driver’s seat and Sara took the passenger side only when Dinah and Deirdre got in the back, already chatting. Sara settled in, feeling almost as comfortable here than she did on the  _ Waverider _ .

“So, how have you been?” Emmet asked, driving one-handed.

“Fine,” she said, watching out the window.

“You like your new job?”

Sara glanced over. “Talking to Miranda, have you?”

“It wasn’t so much talking ‘to’ her, as being talked ‘at.’” Emmet smiled. “You threw her this year, showing up at all, let alone with the job and the guy. Speaking of…”

Sara rolled her eyes, looking over at him. “What about him?”

“Where’d you meet?”

“Work.”

Emmet frowned slightly. “When you started there?”

“Yeah. We both started there at the same time.”

“So what the hell, Sar-bear?”

“What?”

“Why’d you start dating Ava if you had him?”

Sara scoffed, regretting some of the emails she’d sent him. Emmet was the only member of the extended family she kept in contact with, albeit in very carefully worded messages. Looking back out the window, she said, “He got transferred for a while. He only recently came back.”

“He’s a good guy,” Emmet observed.

“Just ‘cause he taught your kid to cheat at poker?” Sara asked.

Emmet laughed. “No, but that’s wonderful, too.” His grin faded. “But no, I meant the way he looks out for you.”

Sara smiled at that, and didn’t look back at him.

“He’s hella good looking, too.”

“You’re married,” Sara reminded him with a grin.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate what someone else has.”

“He is a very charming man,” Deirdre added from the backseat, obviously eavesdropping.

Sara looked back, her mom watching her with an odd look in her eye.

“And he’s very good to you, which all I care about,” Deirdre added.

“Yeah,” Sara said, avoiding her mom’s gaze as she turned back. “He is.”

They got to the winery a bit after lunch and drifted behind Dinah and Deirdre as they walked and talked.

“How have you been, love?” Deirdre said.

“Oh, I’m alright,” Dinah answered. “Some days are better than others.”

“I know,” Deirdre said quietly. “Twenty-six years and I’m still not over it.”

“We weren’t even together anymore,” Dinah reminded her, her voice choked.

“That doesn’t matter in the grand scheme. You loved him. Part of you will always love him, and losing him? That leaves a scar.”

Sara lowered her eyes, those words knocking around in her chest a little. They had reached the counter and Deirdre and Dinah were talking to the manager, while Emmet drifted off to look at the labels. Sara reached into her pocket and took out her phone, hesitating before opening up the messages.

Most of her messages were to her sister or mom. Gideon had a contact for when they couldn’t speak aloud to her and she’d send back scripted messages. Below that, she had an ongoing message chain with Leonard. A lot of it was mission-related, but more and more recently the texts were just asking if one or the other wanted to play cards or a few jokes about the mission or the team.

Finding some courage in the distance and not being able to see his face, she sent a message:  **how’s it going?**

The answer came less than a minute later.  **Doing some recon. Canary’s no longer in Ruth’s room.**

She smiled.  **i have faith. you’ve always been the best.**

**Yes, I am. How are things with you? Going okay?**

**yeah. everything’s fine.** She sent it, chewed her lip for a moment, and sent another one. **thanks again for doing all of this.**

**Not a big deal.**

**it is to me.**

She waited, unsure. The next message came a little bit later.

**We’re a team,** he wrote.

For some reason, she was disappointed at his answer. Much like when she gave him a chance to talk about the Oculus and he threw it back at her. She chickened out, too, but she wouldn’t this time.

**do you remember the oculus?**

Deirdre called her over, having somehow wrangled a wine tasting as they waited for them to finish preparing their order. She waited as the guide for their taste testing explained the wines and what they were trying. Emmet got Dinah to tell a story about her work, which was engaging for them, and Sara had already heard. She glanced back at her phone to see that Leonard had responded.

**Kind of hard to forget.** Then another message while she was reading,  **Why?**

**you haven’t talked about it.**

**Not exactly a topic for polite conversation.**

She took a sip of one of her wines, making a face. Not a fan of that one.  **that didn’t stop us before.**

**Wasn’t sure we could talk like we did before.**

Fair enough. Sara balanced her phone on her lap and took another sip of wine. This one was better. Bolstered, she sent  **i’d like to. i miss how things were before.**

She stared at her phone until the answer came.

**Me too.**

Sara took a breath.  **think we can get back to that?**

This time, the answer was even faster.  **Is that what you want?**

**yes,** she sent immediately.

**Then we’ll try.**

**i’ve missed being the crook and the assassin** , she wrote, closer to the full truth than she’d allowed herself to say.

**Well, I’m still the crook.**

**i never stopped being the assassin.**

**That’s good to hear,** he sent.  **Enjoy your afternoon. I’ll see you when you get back.**

Sara, grinning, tucked her phone away and took another big sip of wine, almost excited to head back to the house.

* * *

Laurel had been all too happy to take the donations into town. Henry and Lucas followed, Leonard claiming he was going to enjoy the little peace and quiet he could get as he went up to the room. Mick looked after Leonard for a second, then followed Laurel.

They drove the car into town, parking it outside of the donation center. Henry and Mick handled most of the unloading, while Laurel and Lucas wandered around in front of the building, seeing a small candy shop on the corner. She took him inside and grinned when he went straight for the colored jelly beans. Together, they filled up a bag, Lucas going for the weird colored items over everything.

“What about those?” Laurel pointed to something that was neon blue. Lucas’s eyes widened and he ran over, pouring some into his bag.

He brought it to the counter to weigh it, and Laurel picked out a few more things on her way to the counter. Jelly Babies for Sara, and a packet of violet mints for her. On a whim, she grabbed a second bag of Jelly Babies and followed Lucas out the door. They left the store in time to see Mick and Henry walking out, looking for them. Laurel took Lucas’s hand as they crossed the street back to them, candy bags in both of their free hands.

“Already spoiling him?” Henry asked with a smile.

Laurel just shrugged. “We want him to have fun, right?”

“You having fun?” Henry asked, looking down at his son.

Lucas grinned up at him, his teeth already a strange shade of green.

Henry sighed. “Alright, let’s get some real food into you before you crash. You two down for a bite?”

Laurel and Mick agreed and they went to a different cafe than the one they’d gone to on their first day here. They got settled, and the waitress was very kind, but clearly distracted by Lucas’s scars, making the kid shift in his seat as she stared at him after having gotten his order. Laurel cleared her throat, and the waitress blinked, flushed, and hurried off with a promise to come back soon. Laurel watched her go, before looking back to her group. Lucas had his hand in his candy bag as his father tried to dissuade him, and Mick was looking at her.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothin’.” There was a small smile on his face when he said it, though.

Henry asked Laurel about her work and she was curious about the business he ran, so they chatted. Meanwhile, Mick taught Lucas how to make a moving caterpillar out of a straw wrapper and drops of water, then entertained him with a bit of a shell game with a few empty cups of coffee creamer and an almond from Henry’s salad.

“Gotta pay attention to both hands,” Mick warned, tricking him once again. Lucas was grinning, a laugh escaping his lips that didn’t make the scars go away, but made them not the first thing people noticed. Laurel kept glancing over, seeing a faint smile on Mick’s face, too.

Henry paid for their lunch, to the argument of the other two, but Henry waved them off. “Please, it was my treat.” They went outside, Lucas hanging off of Mick’s arm and Mick acting like it was no weight at all.

“Lucas,” Henry said. Mick swung him one last time, then the boy let go and joined his father.

“Thanks, Mr. Rory.”

“No problem, kid.”

“Now,” Henry said with a laugh, “if you’ll excuse us, we have some Christmas shopping to do,” Henry said, looking at Lucas. “Right?”

Lucas nodded, shoveling more candy into his mouth.

Henry let out a little sigh. “Meet you by the car in an hour?”

“Sounds good,” Laurel said. They separated, Lucas and Henry heading in one direction, and Laurel and Mick going off in another. Laurel opened up her candy bag and took out the Jelly Babies, handing them to Mick.

“What’re these?” Mick asked.

“Candy,” she responded.

Giving her the kind of look she’d seen him give Leonard when he was sarcastic, Mick waited.

“I thought you might like it,” Laurel said with a laugh. “Just try it. If you hate it, it’s Sara’s favorite. She’ll eat it.”

Mick eyed the candy, but when she offered it again, took it. He ripped off the corner and took one of the candies out, popping it into his mouth. He made a face at the texture but nodded. “Not bad. Thanks, Counselor.”

“You can call me Laurel, you know,” she said, grabbing her own violet mints and eating one. She looked back at him as she started on the sidewalk. He was watching her with that inscrutable expression again, his eyes suddenly the brightest thing on the street as he followed her.

“Thanks, Laurel,” he said, his voice somehow a little lower than before.

She felt a blush start on her cheeks and ducked her head with a smile, glancing up and down the street. The air was a little colder, the sun hidden behind a few clouds, though there was no snow falling yet. Laurel caught sight of a small bookstore.

“Do you mind?” she asked, gesturing towards it.

He shook his head, holding the door open for her as she went in.

They split up once inside, Laurel drifting through the romance novels as she searched for - yes, the next one in the series. She grabbed it and then went looking for Mick.

She stopped, finding him just one row over, a book in hand and a...pair of glasses on his face. He looked so different. Laurel stared, only a single thought coming forward.

She liked Mick Rory.

It wasn’t that she’d thought she wouldn’t like him; she liked most of Sara’s friends, Ava being an obvious exception. But since their first conversation, Mick had proven to be a wonderful storyteller and listener, he was sweet to her and great with Lucas, he could see problems and tried to fix them, like with her wine last night, and he never asked for anything in return. He stood up for her without making her feel like she was incapable. He was a criminal, but in the past few days, he’d been one of the kindest and goodhearted men she’d ever met, and now that she’d seen him in glasses -

Well, damn.

Laurel walked up, not commenting as Mick noticed her and removed the glasses quickly, tucking them into his pocket.

“Got what you needed?”

“Yeah,” Laurel said, showing him the cover.

Mick stared at it for a long moment, his smile spreading. “Didn’t figure you for a romance reader, Counselor.”

“Don’t judge,” Laurel said.

He chuckled, waving his hand as he put his book back on the shelf. “No judgment here.”

“Rebecca Silver is amazing,” Laurel said anyway, heading to the register.

Mick followed her, putting his hands in his pocket. “She’s alright.”

“Though,” Laurel admitted, paying for the book and tucking it into the bag that held her candy, “I prefer her older stuff. Her first few books were some of my favorites.”

Mick let out another little laugh. Laurel looked up at him, waiting for him to share the joke, but he just held the door open for her again.

They walked through the market again, the air starting to drop even further in temperature. It would probably snow tonight. She snuck a glance over at Mick, his hands in his pockets as they wandered, and looped her arm through Mick’s, leaning into him.

“You don’t have to do that.”

She looked up at him with a frown. “Do what?”

He gestured around them. “They aren’t around. You don’t have to pretend.”

Laurel laughed a little bit, then realized he was serious. “Oh, but I’m not pretending.”

Mick continued to frown, glancing down at her.

She stopped, dropping her hand from his arm to get in front of him. “I kind of like you, Mick Rory.”

He scoffed and tried to say something she was certain was going to be disparaging, but she interrupted, stepping a little nearer.

“I mean it. I like who you are and I like spending time with you. I would really like to do it some more, without my family around.”

He cleared his throat and Laurel was thrilled to see a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. “I kinda like you, too.”

“Okay, then,” Laurel said, feeling her own cheeks warm.

He snorted a little, but he lifted his gaze up from the ground. “Thought this whole trip was a trick for Blondie and Snart.”

“Guess the trick’s on us,” Laurel said with a smile. She didn’t want to pressure him, not even a little, but she wasn’t going to lie.

They started walking again. Laurel saw Henry and Lucas up ahead, but they vanished into another shop quickly. Once they were gone, Mick put his arm over her shoulder.

“This okay?” he rumbled quietly.

Laurel smiled and leaned into him a bit more. “Definitely.”

* * *

Leonard shut the door to one of the many closets in the house, exhaling in mild irritation. Still no luck there. He’d been through six closets, four of the guest rooms that the others were in, and back in Ruth’s bedroom. Most of the family was back, milling around their rooms or the kitchen, so he would be pushing his luck to continue searching. Tempting, but he didn’t want to burn bridges until they were a little further into the trip. Though he’d made some interesting discoveries, he was bored now. Maybe he should have gone with Mick to town.

Grabbing the deck of cards, he made his way down to the parlor, making sure it was empty before he went in and closed the door. He took the cards out of the box and shuffled them a few times, the motion not enough to keep his mind from wandering.

The texts earlier had been a...pleasant surprise. The fact that she brought up the Oculus alone was enough to give him some measure of, well, he wouldn’t call it hope, not yet, but a careful optimism. But then she’d gone and floored him with the admission that she missed the way things were before. That she was still the assassin he’d thought was gone.

Sure, there was still some doubt - it’s easy enough to say the words when they weren’t face to face, but for her to bring it up at all…

He dealt out a game of solitaire, leaving his phone out, just in case.

Time shifted by and he reveled in the quiet until the door to the parlor slid open. Miranda came in, unsurprised to see him there, with Adam, Quinn, and Brandon trailing behind her, leaving the door open. Leonard didn’t look at them as they arranged themselves on the chairs around him, smiling to himself.

Well, he’d said he was bored.

“Afternoon,” he drawled, eyes still on his cards.

“It’s Leonard, right?” Brandon said.

Leonard merely nodded, playing another card.

Miranda didn’t say anything, but he saw her cross her arms in apparent irritation.

“So, what’s your deal?” Brandon asked, obviously uncomfortable with the silence.

Leonard placed another card down on the table, not lifting his eyes. “My deal?”

“You’re dating Sara.”

“Yes,” Leonard said, keeping his voice mild.

“What’s the matter with you? You daft or something?”

“Daft?” He placed another card.

“Yeah, dumb.”

“Why would dating Sara make me dumb?”

Adam scoffed, “Because, she’s-”

Leonard looked up, cutting Adam off with his cold gaze and colder comment. “She’s what.”

“Nevermind.” Adam shifted under his gaze. “Just a joke, mate.”

“Ah. Wasn’t funny.” He looked back at his game.

“But seriously, you’re a good looking guy who seems to have a brain,” Miranda leaned forward, her blonde hair swinging into his field of vision.

“I’d like to think so.”

“So why would  _ you  _ choose to be with Sara?”

Why Sara? Because she’d wormed her way beneath his skin, making him care before he even knew what was happening, who stood next to him without asking him to change, but challenging him to live up to who he thought he could never be, because he’d died for her and though that was a pain and torment he’d live with for his entire life, he’d do it again in a heartbeat, because she’d done the same for all of them, multiple times. Because she was his friend, Captain, partner, assassin. Because he was her friend, backup, teammate, and crook. They worked. They fit. They made one another better.

“I think the more important question,” he said, still focused on his game, “is why Sara would choose to be with me.”

“‘Cause she’s such a catch,” Miranda said mockingly. “With her secrets and her shitty attitude and lies.”

“Don’t take it personally.” Leonard lifted his eyes to Miranda. “We work for the government. Secrets come standard.”

Quinn leaned over Brandon’s chair, that gaudy ring winking on her finger. “Tell me something, Leonard. Did you know that Sara’s been dipping her toes in both sides of the pool, if you know what I mean?”

“Are you trying to ask if I know that Sara’s bi?” he asked, unable to help a tint of condescension to seep in.

Quinn laughed, flustered. “Well -”

“Because yes. I am aware.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

He didn’t answer, but arched a brow at her, internally amused as she struggled.

“Well, you know that  _ those  _ kinds of people can’t commit.”

“Trust me, orientation has nothing to do with an inability to commit,” Leonard responded, watching Quinn stare at him as she tried to come back with something else. “Ask my ex-boyfriend.”

Not that he and Daniel ever used the term ‘boyfriend,’ but the point was still made.

Quinn’s mouth dropped and Adam attempted to look down his nose at Leonard.

“Maybe it’s just a character flaw of Sara’s, then,” Miranda interrupted. “Her...lack of loyalty.”

“Funny,” he said, not finding it funny at all, but noting Miranda’s tone. Interesting... “I’ve never seen that.”

He didn’t see it when she told him to help Mick. When she defended him against Rip. Or Ava.

“You’re new,” Miranda said.

“I’ve known Sara for five years. Wouldn’t say I’m new. Maybe you all are just out of date.”

“Excuse me?” Quinn said.

“You’re rehashing arguments and actions that happened almost a decade ago and refusing to see new evidence. You’re judging Sara off of who she was, not who she is now.”

“People don’t change like that,” Miranda argued.

“Don’t they?” Leonard looked up at her as he placed another card down. “Never noticed a change in someone after a few years?”

She blinked at him, her mouth pressing together. “If she’s so loyal, why do you think she left you here alone while she goes running off again?”

“Why, indeed, when she must feel so welcome here amid the snide comments and sarcasm,” Leonard drawled.

Miranda smiled at him, a cruel, hard little look. He supposed that there were some similarities between Miranda and Sara, but he couldn’t see them now. She’d draped herself over one of the wingback chairs and arched a brow.

“We don’t -” Adam started to deny what was so glaringly apparent to everyone.

Leonard should walk away. He shouldn’t push this. His tenuous temper with this group was strained already. He should just make some excuse and leave.

Instead, he scooped up the cards and put them to the side. He leaned back, meeting Miranda’s eyes. He could spot a ringleader in a crowd. “Yeah, you do. All of you, with the jokes you think are so clever, the judgment, and the cruelty.”

“We aren’t cruel,” Quinn argued.

“You are,” Leonard retorted, glancing over each of them briefly. “And trust me, kids,” he punched the word a little, insolence dripping off his tongue as he stared at these arrogant, sanctimonious assholes, “I’ve seen cruelty before, but this?” He gestured to all of them, but let his eyes linger on Miranda. “This is unique.”

“We’re just calling it like we see it,” Brandon said, crossing his arms.

“Then look again.” Leonard grabbed his cards and stood, looking down on these awful people. “Your little game of harassing her ends now.”

“Why, just ‘cause you’re around?” Adam scoffed.

“Because I’m around,” Leonard agreed, sliding just a touch further into Captain Cold. “She might let your jokes slide to keep the peace, but I’m not nearly so forgiving.”

Quinn rolled her eyes, but leaned away from him on the chair. "You’d really stick your neck out for her?”

Phrases hit him, memories that he’d lived and relived in the Oculus.

_ Time to choose a side, I guess _ with a burst of ice and a shout of betrayal.

_ Get him out of here!  _ \-  _ No!  _ \-  _ Just do it.  _ And a kiss that -

Leonard didn’t blink. “Without hesitation.”

“Why?” asked Miranda.

“It’s me and her,” Leonard answered simply.

Brandon opened his mouth, but shut it abruptly, looking behind Leonard. He turned, seeing Sara and Dinah standing in the door, their cheeks red with the cold and coats still on. Leonard felt a pit open up in his stomach, but didn’t show it, knowing they had to keep up the act, especially after his little show.

He crossed the room towards her, taking a risk to glance at her. She was watching him approach, and she looked surprised or even...shocked. But she didn’t look upset at what she’d heard, either from her cousins or from him.

As soon as he was within reach, Sara took his arm, searching his eyes for something. Leonard gave her a little smirk, which seemed to soothe whatever worries she had. And then, with some instinct possessing him which he’d never felt before, he ducked down far enough to kiss her temple as he passed her, leaving her in the doorway.

So much for just pretending.


	6. 7 Fearless Seconds

Sara had no idea what they were eating for dinner. All she could feel is the tingling on the side of her forehead and hear Len’s voice saying -

_ “It’s me and her.” _

_ “...me and her.” _

_ And me and you. _

“Sara,” Laurel interrupted her musing.

She jerked upright a little, refocusing on her sister across and to the left of the table. Laurel was smiling, but she could see the concern behind the smile as she repeated her request. “The salad?”

Sara passed it over, trying to pay more attention to what was going on.

Quinn was prattling on and on about the wedding preparations right next to her. Sara hadn’t gotten to dinner as quickly as she would have liked, lingering in the room in hopes that Leonard would come back, but when it was clear he wasn’t, she hurried down, finding that the only open seat was between Quinn and Susanne. She sat down there, across Leonard, glancing at him as she did so.

“Hey,” she said quietly.

He glanced over at her as she settled down. “Hi.”

“Good afternoon?” she asked.

That got a faint smile. “It was illuminating.”

She smiled in return and something eased in her shoulders. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

They began dinner and Sara had to deal with Quinn talking in her ear, zoning out most of it, until now.

“Sara,” Quinn said, putting her hand on Sara’s wrist, her ring glittering. “So what do you think?”

“Sounds great,” Sara said, having no idea what she agreeing to.

“I’m just so excited to be married,” Quinn continued, blissful.

“I’m happy for you.”

“Of course, this ring is unique,” Quinn said, extending her hand again.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful,” Sara said. It got quiet for a moment, and Sara looked up in time to see Adam looking over at Quinn with a smirk.

Quinn looked back to Sara. “It’d be so hard to find someone who could afford a ring like this. Brandon’s been saving up for a while.”

“I’m sure,” Sara said mildly, pointedly not looking at Leonard. He could get a ring like that in a single night. Probably had. Not that he paid for it, but...she glanced up at him then, the faint smile on his face indicating he’d heard and had the same thoughts she had. He kept his gaze on his food, but she knew he was listening. She was thrown back to all those team meetings with Rip, when the two of them would roll their eyes across the console, making each other grin with their obvious impatience with their captain, and taking bets on who could make him snap first. Rip made them sit far away from one another, but that just encouraged them to speak louder, dragging Mick and Jax into it.

“I have to take good care of it,” Quinn continued, “since most stores don’t know how to handle a stone like this. All the cleaning to keep it so very beautiful.”

“Mhmm.”

Leonard looked up while Quinn was admiring the stone, that familiar irritated look on his face, and Sara fought the urge to laugh, the nostalgia hitting home.

“Brandon is just the best. I’m so lucky to be with a guy who feels like he can commit to me.”

Sara heard the underhanded suggestion but merely rolled her eyes at Leonard. Since she didn’t have anything nice to say to that, she just continued eating. Looking for some kind of response, Quinn looked over at Laurel across the table. “Don’t you think Brandon is wonderful?”

Laurel smiled, taking a bite without answering. Quinn huffed and seemed like she would have pressed the matter, but Leonard spoke up.

“He’s great,” Leonard said. “It must be nice to have someone so cost-conscious.”

“What?”

“Just make sure you don’t wear that ring when you shower,” Leonard said, passing a plate down to Mick.

Quinn looked up at him and, Sara noticed with interest, hesitated. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t want the copper to oxidize,” he warned, still casually cutting up the chicken and eating.

“No one mixes copper and diamond,” Quinn argued, her voice rising slightly.

Leonard looked up then, and though his expression was one of surprised concern, Sara recognized the look in his eyes. It was the same one he used to give Rip before pointing out a fatal flaw in his plans. She’d missed that look.

“Oh,” he said, convincing to almost everyone at the table. “I thought you knew…”

“Knew what?” Quinn said, drawing attention.

“I mean, Brandon knew, right?” Leonard looked over at the man, who seemed uncomfortable with the conversation.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Brandon said, his voice tight.

“Never mind,” Leonard said, looking back at his plate.

“Knew what?” Quinn asked, louder this time.

Leonard hesitated, but Sara knew him well enough to see the smug humor in his eyes.

“What?” Quinn snapped.

“The stone in your ring is a cubic zirconia,” Leonard said, keeping his voice quiet, but everyone was already looking at them. 

Quinn’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

“Sorry,” Leonard said, his eyes dancing. “Thought you knew. It’s still very pretty.”

“It isn’t,” Quinn said flatly. “It’s a diamond.”

“It’s a very nice cubic zirconia,” Leonard said, almost apologetically. “You can barely tell. But it glitters more than a diamond does. And the color is off, just a little, from what a diamond should look like. But it’s very nice.”

Sara grabbed her wine and took a big sip, needing something to cover the smile on her face as the smile was wiped off of Miranda’s face and Quinn got red with anger.

“And  _ you  _ know about diamonds?” Quinn challenged.

Sara snorted into her glass, splattering only a few drops of wine onto the tablecloth.

“Sara,” Jacqueline admonished. David was already up to refill her glass.

“Sorry,” Sara said, trying to hide her grin and holding out her glass for David. “I coughed.” She didn’t dare look at Leonard, but she saw Mick grinning to himself, covering his mouth with his hand to try and hide it.

Quinn got to her feet. “Brandon,” she said shortly, moving towards the door. Brandon got up as well, a withering glance shot at Leonard as he walked out, but he merely sipped his wine with an apologetic look at the rest of the table.

The voices outside began to get louder, and suddenly there was a very clear:

“What do you mean ‘excessive’?!”

Dinah cleared her throat. “I’ll start cleaning up. Sara?”

Hearing the not-so-subtle suggestion, Sara stood and helped her mother clear off the table, gathering the plates and dishes.

Once in the kitchen, Sara began loading the ancient dishwasher as her mother boxed and put away the leftovers. She disappeared for a moment, returning with Sara’s still half-full glass of wine and her own. She handed it to Sara as she finished with the dishwasher, leaning against the counter.

Recognizing her mother’s “talk” pose, Sara sat on the edge of the counter and sipped her wine, waiting.

“Did I ever tell you how your father and I started dating?”

Sara smiled, shaking her head. “No.”

“Would you believe he asked me?”

“No.” Quentin Lance had been an amazing police officer, but when it came to emotions or honest conversations, he’d struggled, especially when Sara was younger. He’d gotten better with age, which Sara would forever be grateful for, but he wasn’t always so open with his feelings.

“We rode the bus every Wednesday together. I was heading to class, and he had the early shift at the precinct,” Dinah reminisced. “I remember seeing him. Thinking he looked so handsome in his uniform. But I never imagined that he was looking at me, too.” She fell silent for a moment, then took a sip of her wine and looked back up at Sara. “We were riding the bus, like every Wednesday, when suddenly he came up to me, and very quickly said, ‘My name is Quentin Lance and I’d like to take you on a date. Are you free this Friday?’” 

Sara smiled as Dinah laughed at the memory. “I was so startled, but I said yes. We exchanged numbers and had our first date. Afterward, I asked him why he’d asked me out so...oddly.”

Sara watched her mother smile sadly. “He said that he’d been wanting to for ages, but never had the nerve. So he’d convinced himself he just needed to be brave for seven seconds. Just enough to introduce himself, and ask me out. He said anyone could be brave for seven seconds.”

Dinah tapped her finger on her glass, looking at the stairwell. “That Leonard Snart cares about you, very much.”

“We’re good friends,” Sara said quietly, listening for any sounds of someone approaching and hearing nothing.

“And that’s all?”

Sara looked down at her wine, dropping her voice even further. “There was something, a long time ago. But I don’t know if it’s still...I don’t know if he wants that.”

“Have you asked him?”

Remaining quiet, Sara didn’t look up. Dinah crossed the room, putting her hand on Sara’s knee. “I’m sorry I haven’t listened or defended you here.”

“You didn’t know,” Sara said, though she knew that Dinah had known. But it was her siblings and her mother; asking her to choose would have been unfair. “It’s fine.”

“Do you care about him?”

Sara lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Yeah, but…”

“Quentin and I might not have made our marriage work, but he was my partner nonetheless. It’s important to have someone you can rely on. Who always looks out for you. Who’s your partner in life.” Dinah looked down at her. “He’s a good man.”

“The best.”

“That Mr. Rory is surprisingly good for Laurel, too.” Dinah smiled, easing the conversation. “I might have had my doubts, but you’ve both managed to find good people, who care about you.”

“It’s fake, Mom,” Sara said quietly.

“Now that,” she said, squeezing Sara’s shoulder, “I know isn’t true. Seven seconds. That’s all you need.” She gave her a smile. “Now, come and play a game with Deirdre and me before bed.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Dinah nodded and left the room, wineglass still in hand. Sara watched her go, chewing her lip. She slid off the counter, downed her wine, and put the glass in the sink.

Just seven seconds, huh?

* * *

Leonard looked up when the door opened, reading in the chair. Sara slid in, smiling at him as she shut and locked the door behind her.

“Snuck off early?” she asked, easy humor in her voice.

“It was either that or join David in drinking more wine. I’m pretty sure he went through three bottles at dinner,” Leonard responded, closing the book.

She was still leaning against the door, watching him. She opened her mouth, shook her head, then took a deep breath. “Thanks, for saying what you did.”

He put the book aside, still watching her. “Would’ve stolen the ring, otherwise. But I don’t waste time on fakes.”

Letting out a little laugh, Sara stepped into the room a little more, sitting on the edge of the bed. “That was amazing, too. But I meant what you said to Miranda and them.”

Ah. So they weren’t going to pretend she hadn’t heard that. “I had to.”

“To play the part?” she asked, fiddling with the blanket, watching him out of the corner of his eye.

Honestly? He hadn’t been thinking about the ruse in the moment. “To put them in their place.”

That wasn’t the whole truth, either, but it was closer.

Sara nodded, seeming to hesitate in some way. But this honesty, or as close as they’d been to honesty in a while, prompted him to speak again.

“Besides, it was only fair. I owed you.”

She lifted her eyes to his, a slight narrowing of confusion.

“When Sharpe wanted to cut me loose.”

The director hadn’t liked him from the moment the Waverider had landed outside of STAR Labs. He caught her looking up his records in the following days, talking with the members who hadn’t known him before. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d overheard a conversation - a fight - between Ava and Sara in Sara’s captain’s quarters just a week or so into his return.

“He doesn’t belong here!” Ava had hissed at her girlfriend.

“He does. He’s an original Legend, and he can stay as long as he wants to. He belongs on the  _ Waverider  _ and with this team.”

“He is a criminal, Sara. Look at these records -”

“I’ve seen them.”

“We should return him to Central City.”

“No. The  _ Waverider  _ is his home for as long as he wants it. He di -” Sara cut herself off. “He saved all of us. He deserves to be here just as much as anyone else.”

“He killed his own father -”

A slam of something on the counter. “I’ve killed a bunch of fathers, too. And mothers. Daughters. Sons. You going to ask me to leave?”

Ava didn’t answer, and Sara kept going, ruthlessly. “Leonard Snart is a member of this team. Everyone else wants him here.”

“Well, I don’t.”

A moment of tension.

“You gonna make me choose?” Sara asked quietly, a hint of something steely in her voice.

“Would you choose him?”

Sara was quiet. Ava let out a huff and a muffled curse.

“Sara -”

“He is my friend and teammate. I want him here. We’re better with him. I’m better with him here.”

“And me?”

“You’re the one setting the ultimatums, Ava,” Sara said tiredly. “The two of you aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“Right.”

Ava had seemed content - or at least willing - to end the conversation there, but Sara pushed it further.

“Leonard is a teammate,” she said and he could determine a note of warning in her voice. “You need to treat him like one. Not a threat or a villain or whatever else you think he is. He belongs here.”

“That makes one of us,” Ava muttered.

Leonard was going to leave, an unfamiliar niggle of guilt at eavesdropping on Sara, at least. But before he could move, Sara had come out of the room and seen him.

He’d inclined his head, silently, not wanting to draw Ava’s ire on either of them if she found out. Sara had given him a little smile and as she walked past him, touching his arm briefly. He’d made himself scarce as Ava left the room, and though she still did her best to avoid addressing him directly, Ava wasn’t as condescending as she had been towards him.

‘Course, she’d been gone a few weeks later, so it had been relatively easy to deal with.

“Ava was...set in her ways,” Sara said now, no tinge of sorrow, though maybe a faint one of regret. “She’s a good person, but she was...she had beliefs, and they didn’t allow for…”

“Criminals?” Leonard said, giving her a faint smile to lighten the mood a little.

She let out a huff of laughter. “Or assassins.”

He’d had the thought Sara’s past had been one of the sticking points in their relationship. Not that he’d made any effort to get to know Ava, but her devotion to the rules and regulations was obvious. Sara followed rules when they made sense, most of the time. But she also knew that being good and doing right were two very different things.

“Well, she’s missing out,” he said, the words coming out a little softer than he’d intended.

Sara smiled, looking at the cards on the nightstand for a moment. “You’re good with Lucas.”

“He’s a good kid.” He sat forward a little, rolling out his shoulder. Sara’s eyes tracked the movement almost immediately, and he stopped.

“No luck on the canary, still,” he said, trying to distract her as he got to his feet and went to the dresser.

She smiled, but it turned softer for a moment. “Well,” she said quietly, “you’re a hell of a thief.”

He didn’t know what to say. This was...different. It felt like it used to. Unsure, he gave her a half-smile, then got up to use the bathroom, sweatpants, and shirt in hand.

The closed door helped him a little. He’d hoped (though he’d never admit it) that there was still a chance for him with Sara, but he’d been far too realistic to actually act on it. But here she was, talking to him like they used to, saying that she’d missed the way things used to be. She was opening the door to something he’d thought had been locked shut.

When he came out, Sara had already changed, sliding past him into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. With a small groan, Leonard settled himself on the folded blankets on the floor, opting to keep his socks on, to try and counteract the morning chill. Sara came out of the bathroom, doing her routine check of the locks, then turning off the ceiling light, but with the lamp on the nightstand still on, it wasn’t very dark.

She settled into the bed without saying anything, and Leonard opened his book, intending to read until his mind calmed down enough to sleep. She wasn’t asleep yet; he could tell from the way she shifted every few seconds. Then she took in a deep breath.

“The floor can’t be comfortable or warm enough, and I know your shoulder is hurting. Why don’t we just share the bed?”

The words were fast, and it took him a moment to parse what she’d just said. Leonard glanced over to the bed, not able to see her from his position on the floor.

He took a deep breath, the lure of a warm bed - not...like  _ that _ , but not freezing wooden floors - a definite siren’s call to him. But it was what else was in the bed that caused him to hesitate.

“I don’t mind the floor,” he said slowly, only a half-lie.

“It’s a big bed.”

Now, that was a lie. But it was bigger than his bed on the  _ Waverider _ , and they’d played cards on that often enough without obvious issues. And the floor was cold.

And…

He didn’t say anything, but got to his feet, grabbing the comforter she’d made him take the first night and draping it over the bed. Sara shifted a bit more to one side, leaving more than enough room for him. Putting his pillow on the empty side of the bed, Leonard slid in under the sheets, the mattress so much warmer than the floor.

“Mind if I keep reading?” he asked, sounding too loud.

“Not at all. G’night, Len.” She rolled onto her side, away from him.

“Night.” He stared at her for a long time, then eventually closed the book without turning a single page. Turning off the light, he laid back in the bed, looking up at the ceiling for a long time. But, the bed was warm and soft, and he found himself drifting off sooner than expected.

* * *

“Counselor?”

Laurel looked up from her computer. Mick was in the chair, a book in his hand, but he hadn’t turned a page in a while. She’d had to answer some work email, though none of it was too pressing. “Yeah?”

“Blondie and Snart,” he said slowly, eyes still on the book. “She really likes him, right?”

Laurel clicked out of her email and closed the top of her computer, giving him her full attention. “I think so. She hasn’t said anything recently, but I remember how she was after the Oculus, when she came home.”

Distraught hadn’t been a strong enough word. She knew something was wrong, but she hadn’t known what. Not until three days into Sara’s return home, when Laurel had tried to get Sara to do anything other than sit alone, and offered to play a game of cards. Sara had stared at her like she was looking at a ghost, and then looked at the cards with wet eyes.

Everything had spilled out then.

“That was a long time ago, though,” Mick said, closing the book and looking at Laurel. “And she dated the Bureau bit- Sharpe,” he corrected himself, “afterward.”

“She thought he was dead,” she reminded him gently. “And I don’t think it was a coincidence that she and Ava broke up so soon after Leonard came back.” She waited, but Mick was quiet.

“She said...some things,” Laurel said hesitantly. Though Sara had never told her that it was in confidence, she knew that it was implied to be. But this was more important. “The breakup was sparked when Ava suggested she should take over as co-captain.”

She saw Mick’s frown, and though she agreed, she continued without stopping. “From what Sara said, Ava said that Sara’s feelings for the team were compromising her ability to lead, and Sara lost her temper and said that she didn’t have feelings for Leonard. But, Ava hadn’t mentioned him.”

“Classic blunder, Blondie,” Mick muttered.

“Ava said she’d stay if she could redistribute the team.”

“Fuck that,” he snapped, brows drawing together in anger. “She’d’ve gotten rid of me an’ Snart.”

Laurel agreed. “Sara obviously said no, and that she and Ava were too different to make it work. Ava said they weren’t that different, until Leonard returned.”

Mick shook his head and rubbed his eyes.

Laurel waited for a moment, then asked quietly. “Is she different? With him?”

Letting his hand fall, Mick eyed Laurel, then looked past her towards the door. “She seems more...content, with everythin’. Sure of herself. Her an’ Snart always made a good team. Whole  _ Waverider’s  _ been workin’ together better.”

She’d figured the same. “What about Leonard?”

“What about him?”

“Does he still like her?”

“I’ve known Snart a long time. And he doesn’t...open up to people. He doesn’t do that lightly, and he said time in the Oculus was different.”

“How so?”

“Said it felt like a minute, sometimes. And sometimes, a lot longer. All I know was when he came back, the way he looked at Blondie...things haven’t changed for him.”

He almost sounded sad. Laurel watched him until he looked up.

“If Blondie isn’t all in, I don’t wanna see him get...He’ll be a real pain in the ass if things fizzle out again.”

Laurel heard that legitimate concern behind his words. “Do you think Sara is stringing him along?”

“Not really, Blondie wouldn’t do that. But...for two self-proclaimed badasses, they’re aren’t all that good at the whole...emotions, thing.”

Laurel smiled. “No, they aren’t.”

“Don’t wanna see them mess it up, for both their sakes.”

Every time he opened up his mouth, showing her more of that kind of understanding side that he seemed so set on hiding from everyone, Laurel felt her regard for him go up more and more. There was so much more to Mick Rory than she’d ever anticipated.

“Well, then we might just have to help them out a little.”

He scoffed, finally looking up at her. “You mean playing matchmaker? I don’t think so. I like having all my pieces attached and not frozen.”

“Please, I’ve been pulling pranks on Sara for years. She’s not that scary.”

“Maybe you’re a bit more badass than me, then.”

“Doubtful.”

Mick chuckled, those hazel eyes bright in the darkening room. “Alright, Counselor,” he said, his voice dropping into that rumbling register that made Laurel feel a bit warmer inside. “Gotta plan?”

She did, actually. “How do you feel about the ballet?”


	7. 6 Cups of Cocoa

Sara woke up first.

Though she’d needed her alarm the first few days, Sara’s internal clock was usually spot on once she adjusted to new time zones. In her prime at the League, she wouldn’t have even needed the adjustment period, and though it was helpful, she didn’t mind pieces of that life slipping away. One that she’d held onto from her past life was her tendency to catalog where she was with eyes closed until she was certain it was safe.

She’d learned that on the  _ Amazo _ , though. Not with the League.

Running her mental checklist, she recognized the scent of the cotton sheets of Ruth’s home, but there was something else over it. Something that sat on the back of her tongue like the gingersnaps Ray made on the  _ Waverider _ , molasses and clove - not overly sweet and with a bit of a bite. It warded away the chill she could feel outside of the sheets, the frost English mornings sneaking in to run along her ears and nose. Sara nuzzled deeper into the comforter, her cheek resting on something that wasn’t giving as a pillow should. Fighting the urge to just sink back into sleep, Sara frowned slightly with her eyes still closed.

It felt so warm, like a heater along her back and legs. Sara leaned back into it, then felt a breath on the back of her neck and something shifted behind her, a slightly cold pressure on her shoulder.

Sara’s eyes opened up as she made the connection. Keeping her breathing steady, she took stock of the...situation.

Though she and Leonard had started off on their own sides of the bed, they must have gravitated in their sleep to the warmth the other was exuding. Sara’s head was pillowed on Leonard’s arm, his other one slung over her waist, and - it took a good deal of self-control not to move - her hand was tucked beneath his, his fingers lightly holding. Their legs were a knot beneath the blankets, far more intimate than she’d expected either of them to be, even while unconscious. When she was with Ava, she’d known every time Ava had tried to pull her closer in bed - it had woken her, every single time, until they just didn’t cuddle.

She hadn’t woken for this.

She could feel Leonard’s breath on the back of her shoulder, his forehead resting in the crook of her neck, his own attempt to fight to chill resulting in him effectively burying his face against her.

If she was slow and moved very carefully, she could get away. She could move enough that they might be close, but not so...tangled. It was possible.

Instead, she smiled, closed her eyes, and let herself drift back to sleep.

The next time she woke, it was due to a shift from behind her, the arm around her waist tugging her closer before going very still. She felt Leonard blink against her hair, heard him inhale slightly.

Not wanting to see if he was going to pull away, Sara let herself stretch a little, appearing as if she was just waking at the same time. She turned enough to see his face, the careful, blank mask appearing on his face, obviously unsure how she was going to react.

“Morning,” she said, going for nonchalance. There was a time she might have teased him for being a cuddler, but things were still a little too...delicate between them just yet. But it gave her hope as the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Morning,” Leonard answered quietly, and oh, she could get used to Leonard’s rough morning voice.

He removed the arm from around her waist, and Sara pulled back a little, untangling their legs as she sat up, leaning against the headboard, if not moving further across the bed from him. Leonard rolled onto his back, his shoulder still touching her leg.

“Sleep well?” she asked, unable to keep from smiling. Just because she wouldn’t blatantly tease him didn’t mean she wouldn’t try, just a little.

Leonard let out a little chuckle, rubbing his face. “Apparently.”

“Good,” she said. Taking a breath, she got out from beneath the covers and braved the cold air, grabbing clothes for the day and heading to the bathroom. As she shut the door, she glanced back at Leonard quickly, seeing him watching her. She shut the door with a smile and got ready for the day.

She waited for him when she was done, the two of them heading downstairs only slightly later than usual. Not everyone was up, but they definitely weren’t the first. Quinn was there, her arms crossed, and no sign of Brandon. Sara caught Miranda whisper something to Adam as she and Leonard appeared, but found it didn’t bother her in the slightest. Most of the comments had bounced off of her this visit, for some reason.

Leonard handed her a cup of coffee, leaning his hip against the counter next to her, his shoulder pressing against hers.

Right, that was why.

They didn’t talk much, just listened in on the conversations as they munched on cereal and bagels. Ruth was talking about the party on Christmas Day and what else they had to do, but it wasn’t much. She was listing off chores as Laurel and Mick came down, people volunteering as they felt inclined. Sara missed the first few chores, interested in how Laurel was whispering to Mick, who was watching her in the same kind of way she’d seen him watch Amaya.

Leonard seemed to notice the same thing, and he lifted a brow when Sara looked up at him. She’d get the story from Laurel later. Now, she was itching to get out and do something. She’d been indoors too much lately and was getting antsy.

“...pick up the last of the gifts,” Ruth was saying.

“I’ll do it,” Susanne offered.

“Thank you,” Ruth said. “And the last bit is the Christmas lights. I need those hung up.”

“I’ll do the lights,” Sara said.

“Thank-” Ruth paused, and looked up, apparently having realized who spoke. She frowned a little, but it didn’t seem to be in anger. “Thank you, Sara. The box is in the front closet, and the ladder is out in the shed. The hooks are already in, you just need to hang them. Start at the left and work your way across the roof.”

She nodded and grabbed her coat off the hook by the door, Leonard following her to the front closet. Footsteps echoed behind them, showing that Mick and Laurel had followed, too. Sara was only mildly disappointed.

The ‘box’ turned out to be four boxes, and the ladder was a relatively rickety thing. Mick and Laurel started on the lights around the windows in the front, the lights knotted and labeled with where they went. Leonard extended the ladder, leaning it against the first of the eaves and eyeing it trepidatiously.

She knew he wasn’t thrilled with heights, so she grabbed the coils of lights labeled ‘1’ and put her boot on the ladder.

“Keep me steady?”

“Sure thing, Lance.”

She climbed up the ladder, not even using her hands. It wobbled a little, but Leonard kept it from moving too much and Sara easily hooked in the lights as far as she could reach, then climbed back down to do it again.

They chatted as they worked, nothing damning or too revealing, but she asked him about Lisa and Cisco, and she told him the drama with Oliver and Felicity. They talked about friends and reminisced about some of the old days, without giving specific dates. Henry, Emmet, and Lucas came out, building a snowman off to the side. Deirdre and Dinah lingered on the porch for a while, drinking something warm and chatting. Miranda, Adam, and Quinn had left some time ago, and the other aunts and uncles were out doing various other errands. She heard a few laughs from Laurel and even a few from Mick as the two of them worked on the windows and doors, outlining them. It was, Sara dared to think it, a nice morning. Before she knew it, the roof lights were hung up. She climbed down the ladder, wishing she’d grabbed her gloves as the aluminum took what little heat was left in her fingers.

Once on the ground, she breathed into them. “What’s next?”

Leonard looked up from the boxes. “These are labeled ‘Drive’ so I assume the posts?”

She nodded, remembering. “Right, around the circle here,” she said, gesturing to the miniature roundabout in front of the house. It did look beautiful all lit up. She huffed into her hands again, going to grab the next set of lights.

Leonard stopped her, taking her hands and holding them in his. Even if she wanted to pull away, which she didn’t, his hands were so much warmer and Sara relaxed a little as the ache faded.

“Don’t you have gloves?” he asked her.

“Upstairs.”

The look he gave her said more than enough. She just shrugged, enjoying him holding her hands. Emmet and Henry were still out here, smiling and looking towards them, but she didn’t see Lucas anymore -

She ducked at the exact right moment, as a small, soft snowball hit Leonard’s chest. She turned to see Lucas crouching behind a post, his laughter giving away his hiding spot immediately.

Leonard looked shocked for a moment, then smirked, grabbing a handful of snow and throwing it with impressive accuracy, hitting the boy in the arm. Lucas retaliated, but Leonard was ready this time, dodging it as he scooped up more snow.

Sara’s laugh was cut off when she got hit in the shoulder from behind. She spun, seeing Emmet’s brushing off his hands and she hurled a snowball at him, knocking his hat off. Henry tried to throw one back, but missed, winging Mick’s leg, which made him turn and join in, to Laurel’s laughter. She stopped laughing when Dinah threw a snowball at her before running inside and shutting the door behind her.

For a few minutes, it was just chaos and snow, laughter echoing off of the house as they all attacked one another. There were no sides - Laurel hit Mick in the face and Leonard dumped a small handful of snow down Sara’s back, Emmet grabbed Lucas and used the boy as a laughing, wriggling shield as Henry went after the both of them. Mick hurled a huge snowball at Leonard, who knocked the porch post, a good three square feet of snow sliding off and onto Mick. It ended when Mick picked up Lucas and gently tossed him into a pile of soft snow, the kid disappearing for a moment and just the shape of his body in the snow and his laughter to indicate where he was.

Damp, but still amused, they finished the lights quickly, Henry and Emmet helping while Lucas went in to warm up with Deirdre. They were putting the boxes in the shed when Laurel spoke up.

“So, anyone want to get out of here for a while tonight?”

Henry immediately said, “Yes,” ignoring Emmet’s rolled eyes.

“I’ve got six tickets to the ballet tonight. They’re putting on the  _ Nutcracker _ .”

Sara immediately perked up, and Laurel smiled at her. It was a Lance family tradition to watch the  _ Nutcracker  _ each year, though she’d only been able to see the ballet a few times in her life. The DVD recording they had wasn’t bad, but there was something beautiful to her about the ballet in person. She wasn’t a huge fan of other ballets, but she loved this one.

“We’d have to leave before dinner, and we wouldn’t be back until late,” Laurel said.

“Missing dinner?” Leonard said, sounding interested.

“Why do you sound so excited?” Emmet said, crossing his arms with a knowing look, “You didn’t seem all that upset at dinner last night.”

Leonard appraised him for a moment.

Emmet grinned. “Nice, though. She hasn’t mentioned the ring once to me since then.”

The two of them exchanged a grin that made Henry look at her and roll his eyes. Sara chuckled, looking at Laurel.  “I’m in.”

“Me too,” Leonard said.

“I’m more than eager to get away for a bit,” Henry said.

Emmet shut the shed. “I’ll see if Mom can watch Lucas for us tonight.”

Sara glanced at Mick, who just shrugged. “I’ll try anythin’ once. Besides, Counselor says there’s drinks there.”

Laurel looked up at Mick, a fond amusement in her eyes that had Sara smirking. Laurel flushed as she met her sister’s gaze.

“Let’s go tell Mom,” she said, heading inside.

* * *

Once they’d decided what they were doing that evening, the rest of the day seemed to be in preparation. Emmet knew of a restaurant near the theater and made reservations, Henry was taking care of the car, Sara and Laurel were roped into finishing the party favors Ruth was planning to distribute, so Leonard returned to the room for a while.

He’d intended to go through his clothes to find something to wear to the ballet. Instead, he’d taken one step in and looked at the bed.

That had been...unexpected. He flexed his hand, still feeling her fingers in his. Before he’d died, Sara had been one of the few to break down his barriers. She’d taken things out of his hands, and shared drinks, and leaned up against him while they played cards, long before the kiss at the Oculus. He didn’t mind her touching him because, much like he’d said the other night, it was about trust. He trusted her.

Still, in his past flings and failed relationships, cuddling wasn’t something he was all that keen to do. He enjoyed his space and tended not to relax enough to sleep when there was someone moving in the same bed as him. Maybe he’d just been truly tired or worn out from the cold not to notice the significant shifts in their arrangement last night, but he rather doubted it.

There was a knock on the door and Leonard stifled a sigh. If it was one of the cousins, he wasn’t going to be held responsible for his actions.

It wasn’t a cousin. It was Mick.

Leonard opened the door, glancing at the two shirts in Mick’s hands.

“Boss.”

“Mick,” Leonard answered, stepping aside so Mick could come in and closing the door behind him.

“Dunno what someone wears to a ballet.”

Leonard arched a brow and leaned against the wall. “Never known you to be so concerned about your appearance.”

Mick leveled a glare at him, then grunted. “Gotta keep the whole thing goin’, don’t I?”

Leonard stared at him for another moment, suspicious. But he gestured to the left shirt, the dark burgundy one not as wrinkled as the black one.

“How has it been?” Leonard asked, as Mick took the chair, apparently content to stay and talk.

Mick shrugged. “Fine.”

Leonard moved to the closet, moving aside a sweater to show a suit jacket. “And you and Laurel?”

“What do you mean, me ‘n Laurel?”

If he hadn’t suspected anything before, Mick’s response would have sold it for him. Leonard smiled to himself but didn’t turn around. “You seem to be getting along.”

“Wasn’t that the plan?”

“Sure. And you’re just...following the plan,” Leonard said slowly.

Mick gave him a little grunt. “And you?”

“Me?” Leonard turned then, eyeing his partner.

“You and Blondie doin’ okay?”

“Fine,” Leonard said, remembering this morning and the feel of her in his arms and - “We’re fine.”

“Good. Know the Counselor appreciates you speakin’ up.”

Leonard hummed and chose a shirt out of the closet, choosing not to question when the ‘Counselor’ had told Mick that.

“Keepin’ things...professional?”

He crossed his arms and gave Mick a look. To his surprise, Mick didn’t back down. In fact, he returned the look, and without dropping his eyes, continued. “‘Cause I know you’ve got history.”

It wasn’t clear how he knew, but Leonard knew better than to try and deny it. Denial always spurred Mick to new beliefs.

“Thing about history, Mick,” Leonard said, turning away again, “it’s in the past.”

“Sure about that?”

Leonard grabbed a pair of slacks and shoes. “She very clearly moved on.”

“Did you?”

He continued to stare into the closet. “Like you said, it’s history.”

“Funny how quickly she dumped the Bureau chick after you came back,” Mick put the red shirt over his knee, looking at it.

“Coincidence,” he told Mick and himself for the hundredth time.

“So you’re not interested anymore?”

Leonard finally turned back to Mick, setting his mouth into a line. “We’re friends.”

“Right. Okay.” Mick got to his feet and headed towards the door. He stopped at the door. “One last question, boss.”

Leonard rolled his eyes, ready to ignore him.

“Where’re you sleepin’?”

Leonard cut his eyes at Mick, but the man moved into the hallway before he could retort. With a slow exhale, he let that one go and picked up his book to while away a bit of time before leaving.

He got ready earlier than he needed to, but he was bored, and headed downstairs to the kitchen to wait.

Ruth was there, sipping a cup of tea. She looked at Leonard as he entered, giving him a slight smile.

“You look very ready for the ballet.”

Leonard gave her a little nod.

Ruth lifted the cup but didn’t take a sip. “So you and Sara.”

Leonard was getting a little irritated with that phrase. “Me and Sara,” he repeated, not giving anything away.

“You seem a rather unlikely couple. You’re obviously a very well-read and intelligent man. And Sara is -”

“One of the most clever and intuitive people I’ve met,” Leonard cut in.

“It just seems like you’d have more in common with someone like Laurel,” Ruth said.

It was such a surreal situation for him, being told that he was the catch, that he could do better. He almost wished the slights on Sara didn’t irritate him so much, he would’ve liked to enjoy the compliments. “There's a lot more to Sara than most of you seem to see.”

“What do -”

Ruth was interrupted as Dinah, Jacqueline, and David came in, trailed by Miranda and Adam, much to Leonard’s annoyance.

David grinned, wineglass in his precarious grip. “You must be in love, to put up with the ballet.”

Giving the man a small smile, he ignored the implied question. Though he had no opinion on the ballet itself, he enjoyed Tchaikovsky.

“You look very nice, Leonard,” Dinah said with a much more sincere smile.

Leonard gave her a little nod, relieved as Emmet and Henry joined him downstairs, Henry in a suit and Emmet in a tasteful pair of slacks and a black shirt. The family focused on them, and Leonard gratefully slid towards the front of the house.

He pulled his jacket off of the hook by the front door, folding it over his arm. More voices from the kitchen revealed that the others must have come down. Knowing his role, and not too displeased with the act today, Leonard made to head over when instinct made him glance up the stairs.

Sara was coming down the stairs silently, her blonde hair pulled up into a tastefully messy knot, and the dark green dress appropriately Christmassy.

It hit him, hard, just then, that he was still head over heels for Sara Lance. Between waking up with her in his arms and looking at her now, it was painfully clear that the feeling wasn’t going anywhere. Well, if he had to play the part, he was going to enjoy it. At least he’d have something to take back to the  _ Waverider  _ if - when - all of this...stopped. Despite her comments yesterday and their intimacy this morning, Leonard wasn’t foolish enough to start hoping. Or, at least not foolish enough to admit to himself or to her.

Or, apparently, Mick.

“Hey,” Sara said quietly, stepping down to the main floor. In her high heels, she was still several inches shorter than him. Leonard got a faint whiff of vanilla, which he’d been tasting since waking up this morning. “You look very nice,” she said, smiling.

“So do you,” he said. That was an understatement.

The chatter in the kitchen picked up and Sara eyed the door, obviously bracing herself. Leonard pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent a text, then grabbed Sara’s coat.

“Come on,” he said, handing it to her.

Taking her jacket, Sara gave him a look.

“Let’s sneak out and avoid the inquisition,” Leonard suggested. “I told Mick to meet us outside.”

Her relieved smile made it clear he’d done the right thing. So he didn’t mind the biting cold so much, the lights they’d hung up lighting up the sunset. Sara crossed her arms but still smiled at him. Leonard smirked back at her but felt the expression warm up a bit more than he intended.

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

Leonard gave her a little nod. “Sure. So...the ballet, huh?”

She shrugged. “I went to see it in National City as a kid and fell in love with it. Bought a little nutcracker, which I still have,” she added, smiling. “We watch it every year.”

“The brave little soldiers and sugar plum fairies,” Leonard said, smiling in good humor.

Sara grinned back at him. “Actually, I was always more interested in Drosselmeyer. The mysterious man with the clockwork ballerinas and the magic nutcracker. Much more interesting than some little soldier.”

Leonard looked down at her, wondering if he was reading too much into that. He was still trying to figure out how to respond when they heard the crunching of footsteps in snow as the other four started towards them. Sara took a half step closer to Leonard and said quietly, “Sorry that Henry and Emmet are coming.”

“It’s fine,” he answered, putting his arm over her shoulders as they got closer. Sara put her arm around his waist, turning into him in a very convincing display. To be honest, he didn’t mind all that much.

The drive to the ballet was filled with stories from Emmet and Henry about one another, Lucas, and, to Leonard’s delight, Sara and Laurel.

“...so I look out my window, and straight into Sara’s beady blue eyes,” Emmet said, to which Sara shoved him gently in the shoulder.

“Andy dared me,” she said, if that was convincing.

Mick guffawed from his seat in the front bench seat against the window and Henry chuckled as he drove, Laurel between them turning around to grin at Sara.

“To be fair, she did manage to climb around the entire top floor.”

“So you started your career young,” Leonard murmured as Sara sat back in her seat, half-pressed against Leonard’s shoulder.

She turned to glare at him with a small grin, and he returned it. In the faint light of the streetlights, and headlights of passing cars, he thought he saw Sara’s eyes dart down, but he passed it off as a trick of the light.

The theater was a smaller one, but still had a bar with both alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages. Henry and Emmet vanished to the bathroom, and Laurel and Mick went to find their seats, leaving Sara and Leonard to grab the group hot chocolate.

_ The Nutcracker _ was apparently quite popular, the crowds congested, especially by the bar. Leonard kept his hand on Sara’s back as they got bumped and jostled a few times.

“I wanted to be a ballerina when I was little,” Sara admitted as they got near to the front of the line.

“I can imagine that,” Leonard said. He’d never tell her that when she fought, it always looked like dancing to him.

“What about you?” she asked, grinning up at him. “What did little Len Snart want to be as a kid?”

Leonard let out a little smile, recognizing the irony of this. “A police officer, actually.”

“Really?” she said, no judgment in her voice at all.

“Really,” he said. “After that, I wanted to be an engineer.”

Sara stepped forward, next in line now. “Stein always said you’d make an excellent engineer.”

“Hmm,” he said, looking up as the man in front of them ordered his drink. Stein had made a similar comment to him, but Lance hadn’t been around. Had this been a conversation before or after he died? “How much more boring would my life have been, though?”

“You could’ve been an inventor, like Drosselmeyer.”

“Or Palmer, perish the thought,” Leonard said.

“So you’re happy with how your life has turned out?”

Leonard glanced down. Sara looked forward for a moment, then back up at him.

“I don’t have any...regrets,” he said slowly, “with what I’ve done.”

“What about what you didn’t do?” Sara asked, still not dropping her gaze.

Leonard held his breath for a moment, not entirely sure how to respond. Was this an opening? Or just a clarification? Was this -

“Ma’am, you ready to order?”

Leonard broke her gaze, looking at the bartender who’d interrupted, then back at Sara. She gave him a tight smile, then said to the bartender.

“Can we get four boozy hot chocolates and two regular ones?”

Henry and Emmet joined them, helping them carry the drinks back, but keeping him from responding. Leonard took a few drinks and followed them to their seats, wondering if that moment was going to be one of his few regrets.

As he settled into his seat, passing Sara her drink, her fingers brushed his, and he realized that yes, it probably would be.

* * *

“Gotta say, Counselor,” Mick muttered as they walked from the car to the house, “not a bad idea.”

Laurel looked over her shoulder at Sara and Leonard, who were walking and chatting to Henry and Emmet. Sara was tucked into Leonard’s side, looking quite at ease. In her quick glances during the ballet, Snart definitely seemed more focused on the woman next to him than the performance. Mick had seemed to enjoy it, though she thought he’d said something under his breath when the nutcracker killed the mouse king. She shivered a little, tucking her chin into her scarf.

Laurel rubbed her hands together, the cold air chapping her fingers. She almost jumped when Mick took her hands, his skin much warmer than hers. Laurel smiled up at him, warmed a little more by the look on his face.

He cleared his throat. “Never really done the whole...datin’ thing before.”

“You’re doing pretty well so far,” Laurel said, bumping her shoulder against his, his hands still around her, warming them from the cold.

Mick let out a little chuckle, glancing at her with those hazel eyes again. “Don’t wanna do anythin’ you don’t want.”

It was so...mind-boggling to her, that classically educated people, like the guy on the plane or Ferdinand, or Brandon, even, could be so assumptive and sexist, and still feel the need to talk down to someone like Mick, who was more respectful and honest, even if he was a criminal in the past (and future, she supposed).

“I’d tell you,” Laurel assured him quietly, leaning a little closer to him.

They got to the front door, waiting for Emmet to unlock it with his key. They came in quietly, most of the house dark, but Laurel could still hear some chatter from the kitchen.

Hanging up her coat as the other came in, Laurel said, “I’m going to head up and get ready for bed.”

“Think I’m gonna get somethin’ to eat,” Mick said, Sara and Leonard mentioned a drink before bed. Henry started upstairs, Emmet following the others, and Laurel gave her sister a little hug before going up after him.

She went into her room and closed the door, smiling to herself. Sara and Leonard had seemed to get along fine at the ballet, the two of them talking during intermission and sitting very close. That had been half the reason for inviting Emmet and Henry, though she did enjoy their company, too.

Still, Laurel knew enough of Sara’s hesitation in relationships, and clearly, Leonard, who didn’t lack confidence in most things, doubted himself here.

If they just talked -

Laurel stepped into the bathroom, taking out her earrings and the pins in her hair. She grabbed her toothbrush and ran the water over it, when she heard the door to her room open.

“Thought you were getting something to eat,” she said, putting toothpaste on it. When there was only silence, Laurel stuck her head out of the door.

It wasn’t Mick standing in her room, but Brandon. He looked miserable, swaying slightly as he stood there, and she could smell the fumes from here.

“Wrong room, Brandon,” Laurel said, putting her toothbrush on the counter and moving into her room a little. She didn’t want to be stuck in the bathroom.

“Am I a bad guy, Laurel?”

She moved to the nightstand and picked up her phone, putting the bed between them. “I’m sure you’re fine,” she said, keeping her phone in her hand as she looked at him.

“Quinn doesn’t seem to think so,” he scoffed.

“She’s just upset. Maybe you should go and talk to her.”

“She’s not upset. She’s a greedy, selfish bitch.”

Laurel set her mouth, disinterested in being polite now. “You should leave.”

“She just wants money and jewelry,” he said, as if she hadn’t spoken. “You don’t, though. You don’t seem to care about that shit, not if you’re with that big asshole. Is it just that he’s a good fuc-”

“Brandon,” Laurel said sharply. He noticed that time. “Get out.”

“Come on,” he said, in what he must have imagined was convincing, “you’re beautiful, and I just want -”

“Get out.”

He moved closer instead. “You and me, we’ve got history. We’ve got -”

“Nothing. Leave.”

He reached out his hand and tried to take hers. Laurel pulled her hand out of reach and he tried again, snagging her left hand in his.

Laurel took a deep breath and leaned forward and Brandon smiled until she started talking, very calmly and slowly. “If you don’t let go of me, I’ll have you imprisoned for assault so quickly that you wouldn’t even be able to pawn your fake diamond ring for bail money.”

Brandon blinked and let go of her arm. Laurel took a step forward, and he backed up, the haze of drink fading from his eyes.

“Get out,” she said quietly. “And don’t ever touch me again.”

Brandon scrambled towards the door, yanking it open and nearly running full tilt into Mick, who stood right outside. Mick looked down at Brandon, his eyes narrowing.

“I was, we were just, I was -”

“Leaving,” Laurel finished.

Brandon awkwardly sidled past Mick, who stepped in and watched Brandon leave before closing the door behind him.

He looked at her, then grinned. “Told you that you were a badass.”

“Hardly,” Laurel scoffed, tucking her hair behind her ear as she put her phone back down. “I’d never be able to keep up with you guys or Sara.”

Mick took a step in the room, shrugging. Laurel had definitely noticed the play of muscles beneath the burgundy shirt and got mildly distracted again.

“Lots of different kinds of badass,” he said. “Blondie might be able to kick ass, takin’ down Encores or whatever. But she couldn’t do what you do.”

Laurel let out a little laugh. “Yes, because what I do is -”

“Badass,” Mick interrupted, with a faint, impressed grin.

Feeling her cheeks warm up, Laurel headed back to the bathroom, but Mick stopped her before she got there.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she said.

Mick moved as if to take her hand, but paused. Laurel closed the distance, taking hold of his warm fingers. “I’m fine,” Laurel repeated. “He didn’t do anything.”

“I could always go kill him, just to be sure,” he said.

Laurel decided to mostly take that as a joke and smiled.

“Thanks, Mick.” On impulse, she reached up onto her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “The last few minutes aside, I had fun tonight.”

Mick blinked and dropped her fingers. “Me too.”

With one last smile, Laurel went into the bathroom, leaving Mick standing still behind her.


	8. 5 Dumbasses

Leonard woke up first the next morning.

The night before had been mildly tense when they got back, though the ballet seemed to have made Sara happy, because she talked about it with Emmet and Leonard almost the entire way back to the house. When they’d gotten up to their room, Sara had gotten changed first, and Leonard looked at the bed, unsure. Wanting to leave it up to her, he didn’t touch anything, and when he came out after using the bathroom, Sara was back on her side of the bed, more than half of it open for him, and the comforter still in place on top. She was turned on her side away from him, and he took that as a cue for no conversation.

He’d slid in quietly, turning off the light, and hearing a quiet, “Night, Snart.”

“Night, Lance.”

This morning, though…

Once again, they’d both seemed to gravitate towards one another, almost smack dab in the middle of the bed. He was on his back this time, Sara curled up on his chest, more like a cat than a canary, one of her legs tucked between his and gripping his shirt with one hand. As Leonard woke up, he realized his arm was wrapped around her back, his fingers curling around her hip, and his free hand was covering the one holding onto his shirt.

He did his best to keep his breathing steady, not wanting to wake her. Though he knew waking her might result in a brandished knife, it wasn’t self-preservation that stayed his voice.

She’d opened the door a few times to a conversation that he’d been unable or unwilling to respond to. It was past time they had that talk. But...he’d enjoy these moments for just another few minutes.

He must have dozed off again, warm and comfortable, because the next thing he knew, Sara was shifting a little, her cheek moving against his shirt for a moment before she tensed, obviously realizing where she was. Leonard, not thinking, opened his eyes and looked down in time to see her glance up. He waited for the awkwardness, but Sara let out a little sigh, putting her head down again.

“I don’t want to get up,” she mumbled.

Unable to help his chuckle, Leonard realized he had yet to move his hands and she had yet to ask. “I think they’ll come looking for us if we take too long.”

“I could just kill them,” Sara said, under her breath.

“True.”

Sara remained still for another few moments, then exhaled, sliding her hand out from beneath his and sitting up. Leonard pulled away, sitting up on his elbows a little.

She got up and grabbed clothes, shivering in the morning air. Partway to the bathroom, there was a knock on the door.

“Sara? It’s me,” Laurel said from outside.

Sara opened the door, and Leonard could see Laurel waiting outside, Mick nowhere in sight.

“Want to get some breakfast? I need to finish some shopping. Just you,” she added, glancing past her as if trying to look for Leonard. Laurel’s eyebrows shot up when she noticed him in the bed, and the smile she gave Sara made Leonard wonder where that obviousness was when they were playing poker.

“Sure,” Sara said. “Give me ten minutes?”

“I’ll see you downstairs.”

Sara shut the door on her and glanced at him. “You don’t mind, do you? I can always -”

“Enjoy sister-bonding time,” Leonard cut in.

She flashed him a smile, then disappeared into the bathroom. By the time she got out, she was running down the stairs to meet Laurel, and said goodbye to him quickly. Leonard just said bye; their conversation could wait a little longer.

Timing it, he got down into the kitchen and snagged a cup of coffee and a scone that had been made yesterday without anyone seeing him. He went back upstairs, opening the door to the office on the second floor and taking a look around.

It wasn’t a large room, but it was beautiful. The windows were thick glass and covered with heavy curtains, but he pulled them back and allowed the chill in to be able to look out over the back of the Drake estate. Sipping his coffee, he enjoyed the silence for a moment, then turned his eyes to the bookshelves. There were some beautiful finds in here, including a few first editions and signed copies. His fingers itched, but he replaced each of them. He noted where they were, though.

Up near the top, there was a thicker, more awkwardly sized book. He pulled it down and carried it over to the armchair in the corner. Opening it on his knee, he glanced at the first few pictures, something similar in the face, even if he couldn’t recognize anyone. Family album, then.

A few pages in, he noticed a few more familiar faces - Ruth, and Dinah, Deirdre, Dawson, and David. There was a tall man present in a lot of them - a smiling, jovial man, with an impressive mustache and a pair of terrible glasses. Next to him, Ruth was always smiling. The photos continued on, children, teens, then spouses began appearing. Then grandchildren. Most of them were hard to tell apart, though he figured he’d picked out the correct baby photo of Sara.

Near the back, there was a large group photo in front of the Christmas tree in the parlor, the man in the center, and the family ranging around him. Sara was hugging another girl her size, neither one of them more than six, and both of them grinning at the camera. A slightly older Laurel was behind her, Quentin with one arm around her and the other around Dinah. Susanne was there, an uncharacteristic smile, James and Adam off to one side, mid-conversation. Emmet was between Deirdre and the man in the center. The older man with glasses was holding a baby, with Dawson leaning over his shoulder to look at the infant and Tiana giving a sweet if tired smile. Jacqueline and David were laughing in the back, watching the boys.

“That was the last Christmas before he died.”

Leonard didn’t jump, but it was a close thing. Dinah stood in the door, a cup of tea in her hand. She came in, the door closing behind her, and sat in the chair next to him, glancing at the photo with a smile.

“That’s Quinn he’s holding. She’s the youngest grandchild,” Dinah said, her eyes on the figure in the middle. “He died about three months after this. Cancer,” she answered in response to his unspoken question.

“Must have been rough,” he said instead.

“It was. Sara was young, didn’t really understand what had happened, but Laurel struggled a bit more. And my mother was...she changed, afterwards. Smiled less,” Dinah said. "Got a little colder."

“She doesn’t have up many family photos,” Leonard observed, closing the book.

“No, she doesn’t. I don’t think she wants to remember him. Hurts too much. Before he died, they used to say they were soulmates. Destiny.”

Leonard managed to turn his finch at that term into reaching for his coffee.

Dinah took a sip of her drink and for a moment they sat in silence. Then Dinah glanced at him again and changed the subject. “You are...a most unexpected man, Leonard.”

“I try.”

“I appreciate everything you’ve been doing for Sara. Both here, and on the...at work.”

“Not a problem.”

She stared at him for a moment, then got to her feet, heading to the door. She paused, then turned back around. “I know I’m not the...I’ve never been the world’s best mother. The girls deserved better from me. Both of them.”

“Never too late,” Leonard said, knowing that it might not be true, what with all the comments Sara had to endure in the past. But at least Dinah was trying. Maybe that counted for something.

“Sara is...she’s got a lot more heart than she shows. Things hit her hard, and she pretends she’s okay.”

“She told me about the family -”

“I wasn’t talking about the family, Leonard,” Dinah interrupted softly. “I was talking about you.”

He put his cup down, tensing.

Dinah didn’t sound angry, though. She sounded...sad. “I might not be as close to my daughters as I would like, but I know when they’re head over heels for someone. I knew Sara had a crush on that mathlete girl in middle school before she did. She always had a thing for smart people,” she said with a little laugh and nod towards him. She didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Your...transfer,” she said hesitantly, “hit her hard. And I’m very glad that you’re back and so is she. But although you coming here is helping her at the moment, I’m worried about what this will do to her in the long run.” Dinah gave him a small, hopeless shrug. “I just don’t want her to get hurt.”

Leonard took a slow breath. “The last thing I want to do is hurt Sara.”

“I believe you,” she said quietly. “But that doesn’t mean it won’t happen.”

He set his jaw and met her eyes, unable to do anything else.

Dinah didn’t seem to expect an answer, giving him another little nod. “Just remember, after this, we all go back to real life. And we’ll have to live with the choices we made here.” She opened the door and glanced back at him. “Some of them are easier to shake than others.”

* * *

Laurel sighed as they exited the store, pulling her coffee closer to her chest as they ventured back into the cold.

“You know,” Sara said, her hands tucked into her pockets. “I could probably be a better help if I knew what you were looking for.”

“A gift,” Laurel said, looking around.

“For who?” The sly grin on Sara’s face spoke volumes.

Laurel glared at her little sister. “Mick.”

They were too mature for Sara to devolve into a sing-songy voice or childish chant, but she definitely grinned. “Oh?”

“Shut up.”

Sara laughed, glancing around. “Come on.” She led Laurel to the bookstore she’d been in the other day, holding the door open as she said, “Mick’s a big reader. He’s actually got these glasses -”

“I’ve seen them,” Laurel said, smiling.

Sara drew her over to the mystery and true crime section. Laurel picked through a couple before finding a promising one or two. Sara leaned on the shelf next to her, arms crossed and her eyes on the door. She seemed so focused that Laurel jumped when Sara spoke.

“So, you and Mick?” she said quietly.

Laurel flipped over another book to scan the back. “Would that be a problem?”

“No,” Sara said, no trace of teasing on her face.

Laurel put down the book in her hand and eyed her. “He’s a good person.”

“I know,” Sara said easily. “He’s saved my life more times than I can count. He’s just...not your usual.”

The tone made Laurel frown. “Are you trying to warn  _ me  _ not to hurt  _ him _ ?”

Laurel’s scoff was overshadowed by Sara’s half-shrug and answer, “You don’t go for guys like Mick, and Mick’s got a big heart that’s been broken a few too many times already.”

“Guys like Mick aren’t my usual,” Laurel admitted, mollified. “But to be fair, there aren’t many guys like Mick.”

Sara agreed to that, helping Laurel carry her purchases to the counter.

“You know, when I was dating Tommy and someone would hit on me, Tommy always immediately got involved,” Laurel said speculatively. “Mick hasn’t done that. He only steps in when it’s clear someone won’t take no for an answer. It’s nice to be...trusted, while still feeling like I can handle myself. It's like he's...”

"Got your back," Sara finished.

"Yeah."

Sara smiled at the clerk as he began ringing them up. Poking around at some of the little novelty items, Sara added a little ornament to the pile and handed Laurel some money.

“Mick is...complicated, but a great guy,” Sara said.

“I like him,” Laurel said quietly. “A lot. And I think he likes me, too.”

“Well, good.” Sara took one of the bags with a thank you and goodbye for the clerk. “I’m happy for you.”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” Laurel warned her. “After this, I’ll go back to work and you’ll go back to the ship, so I don’t even know -”

“You could always come with,” Sara interrupted. “Travel with us for a while.”

“And come back six months later?” Laurel laughed.

“We’ve gotten a lot better,” Sara argued, grinning. “It’s a day or two off now, max.”

Laurel continued to shake her head. “I wouldn’t be able to do anything.”

“Seriously? You’re an awesome lawyer.” Sara looked at her, incredulous, “All you do is look for patterns and behavior. You get people talking and can read them. Do you know how useful that is to us? Research is most of what we do, the snatch and grabs are just what we like to talk about.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. I would’ve invited you before, but I thought you wouldn’t be into it.”

“Maybe,” Laurel said, flattered.

“Even if you don’t want to fly with us,” Sara said, “Mick is one of the few I trust enough to fly the jumpship. He could always take it for a visit.”

“You’d allow that?”

Sara cut her eyes at her. “Mick’s my friend. If you make him happy, he deserves it. And so do you.”

“Well,” Laurel said, unable to stop the flush on her cheeks. “Maybe I can take a trip after this case is over.”

“It would be fun.” Sara’s eyes danced.

“It would,” Laurel allowed.

Sara chuckled, heading towards the candy store in the corner of the market. They got inside and Laurel watched Sara pick up some candy canes and a small bag of mini marshmallows.

“So, what about you and Leonard?”

Sara grinned and opened her mouth.

“Really, Sara,” Laurel interrupted gently. “Are you okay?”

Her grin faded, and Sara looked at the candy for a moment. She paid for it without talking, and led the way outside.

“I don’t know,” Sara said finally. “I don’t know what he wants, or doesn’t want.”

“Have you talked to him?”

“I’ve tried,” she said quietly. “But we keep getting interrupted.”

“You seem to be getting along.”

“Yeah, in public,” Sara clarified. “I don’t know if any of this is real or just part of the act. The act that  _ I  _ asked him to go along with.”

Laurel felt a pang of guilt as Sara rubbed her temple.

“I just...he and I are so...I don’t want to mess it up. I don’t want him to leave.”

“Are you going to try talking again?”

Sara gave another little shrug. “Dunno. I’ve tried a few times. If he really wants...something, then it might be his turn.”

“Is that likely to happen? Him broaching the subject.”

“He did before,” she answered quietly. “I don’t even need him to say anything, I just want him to...make a conscious move that isn’t part of the act here.”

“But how will you know?”

Sara heaved a sigh. “And that’s my dilemma.”

Laurel put her arm around Sara’s shoulder. “Well, as you pointed out, I’m very good at reading people.”

Sara hummed, not answering.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think Leonard is acting,” Laurel said quietly. “Just like you aren’t.”

With a little laugh, Sara leaned her head on Laurel’s shoulder. “Happy fucking Christmas,” she muttered.

Laurel hugged her a little as they headed to get some lunch before the next leg of shopping.

* * *

Mick let out a big sigh and knocked on Leonard’s door again, but there was no answer.

Frustrated, Mick turned, just in time to see Leonard coming up the main stairs, shaking snow off of his shoulders.

“Where’ve you been?” Mick asked.

“Out,” Leonard said shortly. He moved into his room, passing Mick, but gesturing for him to follow.

Mick moved in, still noticing that there wasn’t a pile of blankets on the ground again. That was a good sign, right? But, as he looked at his old friend, Mick noticed a bit of unusual tension in his shoulders.

“You alright?” Mick asked.

“You were looking for me?”

“Yeah, uhh…” Mick looked at the bundle in his hand. “You got anything to wrap a present?”

Whatever Leonard had been expecting, it apparently wasn’t that. He lifted his eyes from the ground and looked at Mick disbelievingly.

“What?”

“Wrapping paper or somethin’,” Mick clarified.

“I’m well aware of what you would use to wrap a present,” Leonard said. “I’m just a little surprised that you’re doing so.” He looked at the item in Mick’s hand and his brow vaulted up.

“She’s a fan,” Mick said, hating that he sounded defensive.

Snart opened his mouth, then shut it, and moved to one side of the bed, reaching under to pull out a roll of wrapping paper and some tape. He handed them over to Mick, then leaned back on the bed.

Unrolling a portion of it, Mick put the book down in the center, pulling out his knife to cut a relatively neat line.

“So, you and Laurel,” Leonard observed, lacing his fingers behind his head and looking at the ceiling.

“What about it?”

Leonard looked at him, surprised. “Not going to deny it?”

Mick took a breath, folding the paper over the book. “What’s to deny?”

He taped the edge of the paper down, then looked up to see Leonard watching him, a smile on his face.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Snart said, leaning back and closing his eyes. “Nothing.”

Mick sniffed, finishing the present. Leonard still didn’t move. Mick glanced towards the door, then at the present in his hand.

“I like the Counselor,” he said suddenly.

Leonard’s eyes opened, but he didn’t comment.

“She’s smart, and a badass. She doesn’t take shit, but she’s...nice.”

“She is,” Snart agreed, his voice bland.

“And she said she likes me.”

“Good.”

“I don’t want to fuck it up,” Mick said. “I fucked it up before. With ‘Maya. Don’t want to mess it up this time.”

Leonard’s eyes narrowed just a touch, but he didn’t comment on the parallels. “Wasn’t your fault with Amaya. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No, I didn’t do  _ anythin’, _ ” he corrected. “Just let it go.” He had made his peace with that, but he knew it was true. He waited too long, didn’t speak up, and when Amaya chose to leave, there wasn’t anything else for him to say. He wasn’t going to dwell on it, but it didn’t change the fact that he could’ve done something and chose not to, in the moment.

“So I’m doin’ somethin’ this time,” Mick continued, mildly embarrassed but also wanting his stupid friends to get their stupid heads out of their stupid asses -  “‘Cause I’ve seen what it looks like to regret not doin’ somethin’ when you had the chance.”

Snart glared faintly at him, but it seemed to lack the edge it normally did. “It’s complicated.”

“Nah, boss. It ain’t. Not even a little.” Mick huffed out a sigh. “Blondie likes you. You like Blondie, so get your heads out of your asses and -”

“Sara was with Ava,” Leonard cut in, his voice a little sharper then. “I’m not exactly the best follow-up to that.”

“She’s not with Sharpe now, is she?” Mick said, a little louder. Snart’s eyes darted to the closed door, but he didn’t say anything about it. Mick lowered his voice slightly anyway. “You came back, and Sharpe’s out, despite nothin’ else changin’. Sharpe had been on our ship for months, and though it wasn’t pretty, it was workin’. Then you came back.”

“So it’s my fault their relationship failed? That’s great -”

“I’m sayin’ we thought you were dead, jackass,” Mick interrupted, not caring that he didn’t do that with Snart. Not caring that Leonard shut his mouth with an audible click and glared at him. Not caring that he could hear a damn hitch in his own voice and it pissed him off.

“You were dead. We tried to move on. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence Blondie chose to be with someone who wouldn’t remind her anythin’ of you. She said that’s why she was only datin’ girls.”

Leonard lowered his eyes for a moment. “She said that?”

Mick leveled his own stare at Leonard, recalling that night as one of his less than pleasant memories. Mick and Blondie had gone out on the anniversary of Snart’s death, getting completely shitfaced as Mick told stories about Snart and him in the old days. A few guys were trying to chat up Blondie, but when she shot down all of them, Mick asked her. She didn’t seem to remember the next day, but he knew. He saw it in every fling since then, and again with Ava.

“You died,” Mick said instead as an answer to Snart’s question. “So has she. Twice. How many more fuckin’ chances you gonna waste?”

Leonard stared at him for another moment, then gave a wry little chuckle. “Is this for Sara’s benefit or mine?”

“Both. You’re both jackasses.”

Leonard smiled, but it faded as he glanced at the phone on the nightstand. “Hungry?” he asked, clearly suggesting a subject change.

“Sure.” As if that was a question.

After a quick stop at his room for Mick to drop his present off, they headed to the kitchen. He saw Leonard hesitate for a half-second as they walked in, seeing that the shitty cousins were sitting there: Brandon and Quinn, Miranda, Adam, and the Ferdinand bastard.

Leonard went to the fridge, pulling out some cold cuts for lunch as Mick got the plates.

“So,” Ferdinand started, making Mick’s shoulders tense up. “How was the ballet?”

“It was an excellent performance,” Leonard said, not turning around as he pulled out a knife.

“You all cleaned up nicely,” Quinn said. “Save the Amazon in heels.”

Mick glanced at Leonard, whose fingers tightened around the knife briefly, but he didn’t respond.

“I mean, I’m all for a healthy body,” Quinn continued, not realizing the imminent danger she was in, “but Sara’s muscles in that dress were just disgusting.”

“My wife certainly doesn’t look like that,” Ferdinand added.

“Not very attractive,” was Brandon’s contribution.

“Luckily for both of us, you’re not the one dating her,” Leonard said, his voice getting tighter.

“You have to admit, it was like a dog in high heels, the way she walked out of here,” Ferdinand laughed. 

“But hey,” Adam said, “you like guys, too, don’t you, Leonard? Maybe that appeals to you.”

Mick turned at that one, glaring at Adam. Brandon and Ferdinand both tensed, but didn’t move.

Leonard put the knife down and turned, crossing his arms. “I’m surprised at the level of homophobia, considering Emmet and Henry.” He turned his gaze to Miranda. “Speaks to a lack of education.”

Miranda arched a brow, but didn’t say anything. Mick glanced at her, then back at Snart.

“Because,” Leonard continued, his eyes drifting over all of them, “it strikes me that I haven’t had this conversation since I was a teenager. With some red-neck piece of trash that could barely spell his own name and thought that the sun orbited the Earth. Funny that you all fall into that category with him.”

Ferdinand scoffed, a blush appearing on his face. “We’re not -”

“It’s like arguing with children,” Leonard said over her, glancing at Mick who grunted an agreement. “Focused on looks and money and old grudges, thinking you’re so much better than everyone else, reeking of hypocrisy the whole time.” He looked at Miranda again. “Hell, if it weren’t for the obvious physical similarities and people like Emmet, I would doubt that the Lances are even related to you.”

“Fuck you,” Adam said, getting to his feet.

“Sorry, lack of intelligence is a deal-breaker for me,” Leonard retorted immediately. He turned back to his food, grabbing the knife and cutting into it.

“We are not children,” Quinn said, her voice getting higher.

Mick laughed, getting a glare from her and Brandon. “Oh,” he rumbled. “You were serious.”

“And for the record -” Leonard said, still turning his back to the room.

Mick saw the door open up, Laurel coming in from the outside, her cheeks and nose cherry-red with the cold and a smile lighting up her face as soon as she saw him. Before he could say anything, Sara came in on her heels, taking in the scene of the room and opening her mouth.

But Leonard continued, uncharacteristically unobservant, “- Sara Lance is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

Mick cleared his throat and Leonard looked back, seeing Sara standing in the door. He went still and Sara stared at him for a moment. The whole act might have been blown, but Quinn saw an easy target and went for it.

“Hey, Sara. I meant to tell you, I loved your dress last night.” The tone was so painfully obvious that even Mick felt embarrassed for her.

“Thanks,” Sara said easily, dragging her eyes away from Leonard to look at Quinn. She grinned and walked past her toward Leonard. “Nice engagement ring.”

Quinn gasped and covered the fake with her other hand. Sara moved across the room, smiling up at Leonard and touching his arm briefly.

“Wanna play cards when you’re done?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“Great.” Sara got up on her toes and kissed Snart on the cheek before she took a bag from Laurel and headed upstairs. Snart watched her go for a moment before turning back to his lunch, not paying any attention to what went on behind them. Laurel watched Snart for a moment as the cousins began to disperse, then looked at Mick.

“I have to wrap a present, so don’t come upstairs, okay?” She smiled, the red returning to her cheeks.

“Okay,” Mick said, a little startled.

“See you in a bit.”

“Yeah.”

After a few seconds, just he and Leonard were left in the kitchen together. Mick stared at the stairs, then slowly looked back over at Snart.

“Don’t say a word,” Snart said, raising a finger and not looking at him.

So Mick just laughed instead.


	9. 4 Brave Questions

“Dad,” Lucas said. “You gotta watch.”

“I’m watching,” Emmet insisted, leaning over the coffee table. “I’m watching.”

Laurel smiled, leaning against Mick’s shoulder as they lounged on the couch. Lucas had a few small bowls and a clementine, and was demonstrating the shell game. Lucas moved the bowls and looked up at his dad.

Emmet picked the center bowl and Lucas removed the bowl to show - nothing.

“Come on,” Emmet said, sitting back with a huff.

Lucas grinned at Mick over his shoulder and put it back together. “Try one more time.”

Emmet let out a sigh and leaned forward again.

The parlor was quiet and comfortable. Dinah and Deirdre were chatting by the tree, sipping tea, even at this early afternoon hour. Dawson and Tiana were on another set of chairs, playing chess. Henry was reading next to Emmet, though he watched his son and husband occasionally. Miranda was in the corner on her computer, and though Laurel watched her suspiciously, Miranda didn’t say anything. She still glanced over on occasion, but Miranda seemed engrossed in whatever she was doing.

Laurel was lingering over a cup of coffee, and Mick’s was empty in front of him. Across from them, Sara was sitting cross-legged on the couch, playing cards with Leonard, who also glanced at Miranda once in a while. It was unclear if the two of them had talked; Ruth kept them all pretty busy yesterday afternoon in order to have a relaxed Christmas Eve today, and they’d played a game with David, Jacqueline, and Dawson after dinner, so all of them went to bed late. She hoped so, but from the way Sara looked at Leonard when he was distracted, Laurel rather doubted it.

Christmas Eve was when most of them exchanged presents and they had the big family meal, as the party on Christmas day involved a good portion of the town. Laurel was still mildly dreading it, though not as much as usual.

She finished her drink, still watching Lucas trick his father, her book open and unread on her lap. It was still an hour or so until their big lunch, so Laurel got to her feet.

“Anyone need a refill?”

There were a few requests, so Mick got up and joined her, gathering up the mugs and heading to the kitchen. Laurel put the kettle back on for the tea, pouring out a few cups of coffee as Mick stood behind her and reached for the sugar, his arm brushing past her waist. Smiling to herself, Laurel leaned back, just a bit, against his broad chest. Mick had the sugar in his hand but seemed to go still. After a breath, she felt him lean down and brush a kiss against her cheek.

A mild shock went through her at the simple gesture. Mick put the sugar down and put his hand on her hip, gently. She turned around to face him, Mick’s hand loosening, but not letting go of her. The chill of the winter outside seemed impossible given the warmth she felt now. Mick stared down at her, a little smile in place.

Despite being so much larger, Laurel didn’t feel trapped between Mick and the counter. She felt warmth and anticipation, but no fear or concern. Mick started to bend down a little, then paused.

“Can I kiss you?”

Laurel nodded, unable to keep from smiling. “Please.”

Mick grinned, then leaned down a little more. Laurel closed her eyes -

“Oh,” said a voice. “Are we interrupting?”

For a moment, Mick looked furious. Then he let out a little sigh and turned to face Brandon and Quinn who walked in with Adam on their heels.

“Kinda,” Mick rumbled.

Brandon gave Laurel a faint glare, obviously not over the other night. She ignored that and leaned into Mick’s side. His arm wound around her waist.

“So, how’s work?” Quinn asked, looking at Laurel.

“Good,” she answered. “I’ve got a few big cases coming up.”

Brandon scoffed at her, and Laurel turned her eyes on him. “Yes?”

“I’m just wondering if all this working is why you can’t seem to hold onto a boyfriend.”

Laurel let out a sigh, tilting her head at him.

Brandon continued, undeterred, “I mean, first it was Oliver Queen, but your sister snagged him from you. Then you go for Queen’s best friend Tommy, but he dumped you, too. I would guess that you’re just a golddigger -”

“Brandon,” Quinn said, sounding a little shocked.

“- but now you’re with big and ugly. Does he like that you’re never home?” Brandon’s smile grew nasty. “Is he cheating on you with Sara, too?”

“Watch it,” Mick said lowly.

“Brandon,” Quinn said, “that’s enough, I don’t think -”

“Come on,” Brandon said, taking a step closer. “Gotta admit that these Lance girls are much more trouble than they’re worth.”

“The only one causing trouble here is you,” Laurel said.

“Sounds like you’ve got an issue with smart women,” Mick added, a note of something like Leonard in his voice. “Guys who don’t like smart women don’t deserve them.”

“I’m quite happy with my girl, thanks,” Brandon said.

It was silent for a full three seconds before Quinn said, “Wait, what?”

Brandon blinked. “No, I didn’t mean -”

“Do you not think I’m smart?” Quinn asked, crossing her arms. Adam made a face and started to go up the stairs to escape the fallout.

Brandon took a step nearer, hands out as if to appease her. “Come on, you work with makeup.”

Laurel bit her lip as Quinn’s eyes went wide. “I have a master's in molecular biochemistry, you jackass. I study  _ molecular  _ makeup.”

Brandon stared at her for a moment. “Oh.”

Quinn huffed and stomped off, Brandon following her up the stairs. 

“Babe, wait!”

The kettle started to whistle and Mick let go of her to turn it off. He set it on a cool burner, then turned to grab the cups behind them on the table. He glanced at Laurel, a little grin tugging at his mouth.

“That was fun,” he said.

Laurel smiled, unable to help a little laugh of her own. Mick’s smile softened and he put the cups on the counter before reaching out to touch her cheek.

Very slowly, Mick leaned down and brushed a gentle kiss across her lips, nothing like what she would have expected from him. Her eyes slid closed, but it was over in a breath, the flush suffusing her the only indication it had happened at all.

He pulled back, just a bit, and gave her another one of those rare, small smiles, and said, “And in my opinion, you’re worth all the trouble.”

* * *

Sara curled up next to Leonard on the couch, pleasantly full from their big Christmas Eve lunch. There would be snacks later in the evening, but it was the big meal of the day. Leonard had grabbed a corner seat on the big couch in the parlor, so Sara leaned into him to make room for her mom on the other side.

They hadn’t gotten to play cards yesterday and had been exhausted hauling in the fresh greenery for the party tomorrow, the entire downstairs now covered with holly and ivy, wreaths on every window, and then lights draped around each bit. When they finally had a free moment, Lucas had been dogging Leonard’s footsteps, obviously wanting to play a game. Leonard had indulged him, while Sara watched. By the time they were alone, Leonard had already been asleep when she came out of the bathroom, and she regretted another missed opportunity.

Now, however, he shifted, putting his arm around her shoulders so she was comfortably tucked against his side. Sara gave him a little smile as Deirdre and Dawson handed out the gifts. Her gift to Leonard was still upstairs, these were more family gifts. For a while, it was chaos, all chatter and wrapping paper flying through the air.

Sara noted Adam unwrapping her gift, and pulling a face at the cologne she’d bought him. She made sure to look away when he looked up, but Leonard murmured in her ear. 

“He looks sufficiently irritated, I think.”

“Good,” Sara replied, looking up at him. They were very close and it took most of Sara’s willpower not to glance down. She forced a smile and opened up a gift from Jacqueline and David - a set of makeup brushes. “Thanks,” she told them, smiling.

“Just what you wanted,” Leonard commented, sarcasm oozing out, though too quietly for anyone else to hear.

She got a shirt and a copy of this year’s most popular book from Dawson and Tiana, which was nice. A mug and hot chocolate from Susanne and Ferdinand, with a gift card. Miranda had given her an innocuous set of nail polish. A garish necklace from Quinn, but Sara made sure to thank her for that one profusely. For some reason, Brandon had to leave early and Quinn wasn’t wearing her engagement ring. Sara didn’t really give two shits about Brandon, but Quinn was obviously depressed.

The last gift was a card from Adam. On the envelope, it said,  _ “For next time.” _

She opened it up, catching one of the words, and closing the card again quickly. She looked up to where Adam was sitting, smiling smugly at her.

Leonard, who’d been talking to Mick perched on the chair next to him, glanced over and must have seen something in her face.

“Lance?”

She swallowed and rolled her eyes towards him. “It’s fine,” she said quietly.

Leonard frowned, looking down at the card. He reached out a hand to take it, but Sara stopped him.

“Just leave it.”

That made his frown more pronounced, and he started to lean towards her to talk.

So focused on Leonard, Sara didn’t see the unexpected move. Dinah reached over and took the card from Sara’s lap, opening it up.

Out spilled a small pile of pamphlets:  _ Funeral and Cremation Costs; In Loving Memory; Cremation Society. _

Leonard made an angry sound in the back of his throat, his eyes cutting over to Adam. Before he could speak, someone else did.

“Adam, did you give this to Sara?”

Everyone’s heads turned towards Dinah as she spoke, her voice as calm and clear as if she was delivering a lecture at her college. Her steely gaze was fixed on Adam.

Adam let out a little laugh but was obviously thrown. No one commented on this stuff, except Leonard. And Leonard had always had her back. Her mother, though she loved her, didn’t stick up for her here. It was just the way it was.

Until now.

“It was just a joke, Auntie,” Adam tried to say.

“A joke?” Dinah repeated, holding up the cremation pamphlets. “I was under the impression that jokes were supposed to be funny.”

“He’s just referencing Sara’s incident,” Ruth said, though she had a faint frown on her face as well.

“You mean the worst time of my life?” Dinah clarified. “That incident? That’s what you chose to make a joke out of?”

“Auntie, I -”

“I know what you were doing, Adam. And it will not happen again.”

“You’re making a scene, Dinah,” Ruth said. “Drakes don’t make scenes.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m a Lance, then, isn’t it?” Dinah shot back. “These terrible jokes should never have been started in the first place. They’re cruel and painful. They stop now. From all of you.”

“Auntie,” Adam started, “it’s just-”

“Now,” Dinah repeated firmly, her eyes traveling over each of them. “If they don’t, I and my family will be celebrating all future holidays in Star City.”

Sara stared at her mother, amazed that she’d said that to all of them. Shock still reigned in the room, until Deirdre cleared her throat.

“I’ve always wanted to visit Star City. I’d love to celebrate with you if you go.”

“Us too,” added Emmet, Lucas on his lap and Henry nodding behind them.

David and Jacqueline nodded but didn’t speak. Dawson was glaring at his son, while Tiana shifted uncomfortably next to Ruth.

“I think you’ve...made yourself clear,” Ruth said, still looking flummoxed at the situation.

“Excellent,” Dinah said, dropping the card and pamphlets into the trash can next to her. “Then someone pass the eggnog.”

As the conversation started up, Sara was still watching her mother. Dinah looked over after a moment, almost hesitantly. She reached out and squeezed Sara’s hand, and Sara pressed back, giving her a smile. Dinah sniffed and wiped her eyes, taking the eggnog from Henry with a thank you and pouring some more in her glass.

Sara remained quiet for the rest of the gift-giving, not wanting to add more drama. Tucked between Leonard and her mother, it was the politest the conversation had ever been. Leonard left when things were winding down, carrying his empty mug. When he came back, it was with several larger presents, all the same size. Sara narrowed her eyes at him, but Leonard didn’t look over at her.

“What’s this?” Ruth asked as he handed one to her.

“My gift,” Leonard said simply. He gave one to Dawson and Tiana, one to David and Jacqueline, one to Deirdre and Emmet, and one to Dinah as he sat down next to Sara again. “Merry Christmas.

Curious, Sara looked over her mother’s shoulder as she unwrapped it. It was a dark wood frame, with a picture inside of it. Sara’s eyes widened as she recognized what it was.

A family photo, the last one they took before Grandpa Frank had passed away. Her eyes drifted over him and her father, smiling behind Laurel. Sara looked at her little self, hugging Miranda tightly.

“That’s you, kiddo,” Dawson said to Quinn, pointing at the infant in Frank’s arms.

Quinn managed a small smile, edging closer to her mother as she looked at the photo.

“Look at those two troublemakers in the corner,” Deirdre said, pointing at Sara and Miranda. “Was this the year they climbed out the window?”

“No,” Emmet laughed. “This was the year they decided to camp in the maze.”

Laurel grinned. “We were in there for an hour looking for them.”

More laughter.

“And Grandpa just climbed to the second floor and yelled directions.”

“They had no blankets, but a whole tin of the gingersnaps Grandma made.”

“Adam was more concerned about the cookies going missing.”

“Then Grandpa made a fort for the two of you in here,” Dinah said, looking at Sara.

“We stayed up all night,” Sara said, looking across the room to Miranda. She was looking over Jacqueline’s shoulder at the photo.

For a moment, she was quiet, then Miranda looked up and met Sara’s eyes. “That was a good night.”

In the silence, there was a small sniff. Sara looked over at Ruth, who was staring at the photo, her eyes watering.

“Mom?” Dawson said gently, putting his hand on her shoulder.

She sniffed again, wiping her eyes. “I’m fine, dear. I’m fine.” She looked at the photo again, giving it a watery smile. “I forgot how much I missed him.”

Sara reached out and took Leonard’s hand instinctively without looking, but he just squeezed her fingers back gently and didn’t say anything.

Ruth traced the edge of the picture, then seemed to blink, coming out of her memories. She looked up at Leonard and nodded at him.

With that, most of them seemed to find a cue to leave. Adam scurried out of there quickly, his father treading after him. David made his way over to Dinah, talking quietly to her. Deirdre picked up Lucas, who was half dozing after the large meal and gifts. Mick and Laurel were talking with Emmet, who glanced over at Sara. “Meet in the living room in five? We’re gonna do our Christmas marathon.”

Sara smiled at him. “Alright.” She chewed her lip for a moment, then looked over at Miranda, who was gathering her gifts. “Hey, An- Miranda.”

She looked up, her expression unreadable.

“We’re gonna watch _ Die Hard  _ in the living room. If you want to come.”

Miranda looked at her for a moment, then gave a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe.”

Taking that, Sara looked over at Leonard, but before she could speak, Ruth approached, still holding onto the photo.

Leonard got to his feet to face her, and Sara stepped a little closer.

Ruth stopped in front of him, staring at his face for a moment. Then she moved suddenly, pulling Leonard into a hug. “Thank you.”

He looked a little bemused but patted Ruth’s back. Her grandmother let go, wiping her eyes again.

Then she turned to Sara and hugged her, too, tightly and for a long time. Sara hesitated, then hugged her back. It had been a long time since her grandmother had hugged her.

Ruth let go and stepped back with another sniff and suspiciously shiny eyes. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Sara echoed quietly.

Ruth drew herself up to her height, and then swept out of the room, the picture held tightly to her chest.

The rest of the room was chatting and heading out, so Sara grabbed Leonard’s arm.

“That was…” she said quietly.

“Trying to make some changes,” he murmured.

“Apparently it worked.” Sara glanced over at her mother. When she looked back, Leonard was looking over at Miranda speculatively, then turned his eyes back to her.

“Good,” he said, no one close enough to hear their conversation. “Seeing as how next year, I won’t…” Leonard trailed off, glancing around the room again.

A small pit dropped into her stomach at that. She’d thought, even though they hadn’t been able to talk yet, that maybe they’d been heading in the right direction. Apparently not. For a moment, Leonard met her eyes and it felt like he expected her to say something, but she wasn’t certain what.

“Right,” she said. “Well, we’re going to watch a movie, if you want to join us.”

Something flickered in his eyes, and he nodded. “Maybe.”

Sara turned away, then paused, and added, “Thank you for...everything.”

Leonard looked at her for a moment, and quietly said, “It’s me and you, Lance.”

Damnit, now what was  _ that  _ supposed to mean? She faced him once more, frowning. “Len -”

“Sara, come on!” Emmet shouted through the open door. “Nakatomi Plaza isn’t going to save itself!”

She glanced back at her cousin, then once more at Leonard. He jerked his head towards the door. “Go on. I’ll meet you there in a bit.” When Sara continued to hesitate, he gave her a small smile. “Promise.”

Thrown, but slightly more hopeful, Sara left the room, glancing behind her at Leonard, who was watching her leave.

She doubted even Bruce Willis would be enough to distract her.

* * *

It was late when they all finally made it up to bed. After _ Die Hard  _ and  _ Die Hard 2, _ Emmet had pulled out  _ A Muppet’s Christmas Carol, _ which Mick hadn’t seen since he was a kid. When he was a kid, though, there weren’t little Lance girls singing along to all the songs and Emmet commenting on the inaccuracies, as Miranda, who snuck in around the end of  _ Die Hard, _ added in a few mild comments. Mick was on one corner of the couch, Laurel half-draped in his lap, while Emmet and Henry were cuddled on the opposite corner. Miranda was on one of the armchairs, a blanket over her lap. Snart, who’d only missed a few minutes of the  _ Die Hard _ , was lounging on the ground, leaning against the middle of the couch, and Blondie had slid off of it to join him on the floor, the two of them whispering on occasion.

As the credits were rolling on Michael Caine’s character shift, Mick looked around. Miranda was sleeping in the chair, but shifted as Emmet yawned. She gave them a half-hearted wave as she left, no words said.

Laurel grinned at him, but he could see the exhaustion in her eyes.

“Come on, Counselor,” Mick said, helping her to her feet as he rose.

On the ground, Sara shifted beneath Leonard’s arm, her eyes closed as she’d obviously drifted off, too. Leonard met his eyes and gave him a little nod as he leaned down to murmur in her ear, waking her enough to get up to bed. Mick was impressed at Snart’s boldness - Blondie was notorious for greeting any attempts at waking her with a knife or three.

The rest of the house was quiet and dark, almost everyone else going to bed. From inside the parlor, there was a light from under the door and faint music playing, but they went to the stairwell without stopping. Mick followed Laurel upstairs, hearing Emmet and Henry chat quietly as they went upstairs. As they reached their room, Mick heard the sound of Leonard and Sara’s voice coming up the stairs, too.

Laurel closed the door behind them, covering a yawn. Mick chuckled, heading to his bags to grab his sweatpants and thermal. She moved to the closet, but when she turned around, it wasn’t her clothes in her hand, it was a small bag.

“Tomorrow gets a little crazy,” she said. “So I wanted to give you your Christmas present early.”

Mick looked at it for a moment, then leaned over to grab the package he’d wrapped earlier and traded it for the bag. She took it with a smile but looked at him.

Mick reached into the bag and pulled out a book. A collector’s edition of the  _ Count of Monte Cristo. _ It was one of his favorites, but he wasn’t sure she knew that. Blondie certainly didn’t know that.

“Thanks,” he said lowly, looking at the embossed cover. “This is…”

Laurel seemed to take that as the compliment it was meant. She opened up her wrapped gift, smile widening as she looked at the cover.  _ Uncaged Desire,  _ by Rebecca Silver. She flipped open to the title page, and her eyes widened. 

“This is signed,” she said disbelievingly.

“Yeah. Kinda got an in with Silver,” Mick admitted.

“Going to tell me how?” Laurel asked, an amused glint to her eye.

“Maybe someday.” He gestured for her to use the bathroom first, and she hurried in, the book left on her nightstand. Mick read the first few pages of his book, engrossed in the story as much as he was when he was a kid, that he didn’t notice Laurel was done until she said his name.

After he got changed, he came out to the dimly lit bedroom, just the lamp on the nightstand to shine a glow. He started towards the chair, looking forward to some rest.

“Mick?”

He grunted, grabbed the blanket.

“Do you want to sleep here?”

Startled, it took him a moment to respond. “I’m okay on the chair.”

“I know. But you don’t have to sleep there.”

Now that he was looking, he saw that she had shifted to one side, leaving a decent expanse of the bed open for him. And the chair did suck.

“You sure you don’t mind?”

“Positive,” Laurel said with a smile.

Mick gave her a little shrug and tossed the blanket over the bed. Then he slid in on the other side. The bed was large, but they were still close enough to be very conscious of the other. Mick glanced over at Laurel, who was looking at him, and grinned, still tasting their brief kiss earlier.

Laurel smiled back, then leaned up on her elbow to hover above him. She leaned down, hesitating for a moment. Reaching up, Mick tucked her hair behind her ear, letting his hand linger on her cheek, but didn’t pull her down. Laurel leaned into his hand briefly, then closed the distance between them.

It started soft, reminiscent of the kiss earlier, but Laurel moved a little closer, her hand on his chest as she laid half on him. Mick’s free hand curled up around her shoulder, but he didn’t make a move beyond that. It didn’t go much further, both of them too tired, and this still a little new. Eventually, Laurel pulled away, but instead of returning to her side of the bed, she shuffled until she was leaning against his shoulder, his arm around her.

“Is this okay?” she asked quietly.

Mick gave her a little laugh, an incredible badass curled up with him, his favorite book on the nightstand, and violets on his tongue.

“More than okay, Counselor. Do me a favor though?”

She lifted her head a little, meeting his eyes.

“Don’t tell Snart.”


	10. 3 Wrong Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would a story of mine be without the angst?

After a few days of waking up tangled with Leonard, Sara wasn’t exactly surprised by it anymore. She woke up enough to note that she was serving as the inappropriately named ‘big’ spoon, her face pressed between Leonard’s shoulders and her arm slung over his waist. Any momentary thought that it was all her unconscious movements was thrown out when she felt his hand wrapped around hers, holding it against his chest as he slept.

Previously, she’d gone back to sleep, but today, Sara stayed conscious and just didn’t move. She stayed wrapped around Leonard, taking note of that clove and molasses smell, and the softness of his cotton t-shirt, and the slight rhythmic movement of his fingers along her hand -

He took a sharp breath and the movement stopped, obviously coming all the way to consciousness. Still, it took a moment for him to let go of her hand, as if he did so to avoid waking her.

“I’m up,” she murmured, not seeing a flinch, but feeling a small tensing of his muscles nonetheless.

He let go with alacrity, not turning to face her. “Sorry,” he said, in that morning voice that made her so distracted.

Sara left her arm draped over him for another moment before withdrawing. “Don’t be. I should be sorry.” She rolled onto her back, grimacing at the cold sheets below her shoulder and legs, and missing the warmth of Leonard’s body.

“Why would you be sorry?”

Sara didn’t answer at first, trying to figure out how to play this. But she was so tired of the half-truths and side-stepping real feelings. Leonard shifted in her silence, rolling onto his back and turning his head to face her.

“I’ve never been so...clingy before,” Sara admitted.

There was a faint shift behind his eyes. “It’s cold here.”

It was like him, to give her an out. Give them both the out, blame it on anything other than feelings. Sara considered it, staring at him.

Then she said, “Colder in Nanda Parbat. I was never like this with Nyssa.”

Leonard looked back at her, then up at the ceiling. “I was never much for...sharing my space. But the few times I did, I was also a bit more...distant.”

“Maybe it means something, that we’re not so distant with one another.”

He turned his eyes back to her with a lift of his mouth. “Think so?”

“Means something to me,” she said.

Leonard lifted himself up on his elbow, still looking at her. “You and Ava -”

“There is no me and Ava,” she interrupted him. “Not anymore. She is important to me, but she and I are done. We weren’t right for one another.”

Leonard stared at her, looking younger than she’d ever seen him, in the morning light, in his gray t-shirt, with the faint look of...something in his eyes. “Sara -”

There was a knock on the door and Sara glared at the interruption. “What?!”

A faint laugh. “Good morning to you, too,” Emmet said from outside. “You and me are on cookie duty. So get your ass in gear, Sar-bear.”

She threw her head back into her pillow with a huff. “Fine. I’ll be out in a bit.”

“Hurry up. I’m not above sending Lucas in to make sure you’re moving.”

“I will kill you.”

“Love you, too!”

Sara squeezed her eyes shut until she started seeing spots, then opened them to find Leonard still looking at her, but the look on his face was gone, shuttered away.

Swinging her legs out of the bed, she grabbed her clothes and got ready, cursing nosy family members under her breath.

Leonard met her down in the kitchen, with Laurel and Mick joining her and Emmet, too. Sara eyed the easy closeness between Mick and Laurel with something kind of like jealousy, as they moved around the kitchen, getting what they needed to make some sort of secret cookie recipe of Mick’s. Leonard was the kind to follow the recipe exactly, like Laurel, while Mick and Emmet just sort of threw things together until it looked good. Sara just lent a hand whenever one was needed, and managed getting things in and out of the oven.

By midafternoon, after multiple cups of coffee and too many cookies eaten as ‘testers’, the counter was covered with cookies and Emmet begged off, needing to get Lucas fed, showered, and dressed before the party started at five. Mick and Laurel plated the cookies and Sara took over the dishes, Leonard grabbing a towel to start drying. Soon, the couple left, probably to go get ready themselves.

Sara was halfway done with the dishes when she heard the kitchen door swing open. Glancing over her shoulder, she noted Adam and Miranda coming in. Miranda grabbed a cookie off one of the plates and took a bite. 

“Nice job,” she said.

Sara gave her a little smile, and continued washing. “I’m just cleanup. The others were the masterminds.”

“Figures,” Adam scoffed.

Sara saw Leonard roll his eyes, continuing to dry.

“So, in this kind of arrangement,” Adam continued, the anger in his voice probably a leftover from Dinah reaming him out, “is Sara basically the dude? She’s certainly butch enough. And Leonard, you’re into the ballet and baking and all that other fa -”

“Oh, shut the fuck  _ up,  _ Adam.”

Sara blinked, knowing that she had been thinking those words, but she definitely hadn’t said them. Leaving the dishes in the sink, she turned to look at Miranda, who was looking down her nose at Adam. For his part, Adam was looking gobsmacked, and Sara couldn’t really blame him. Miranda had been the biggest instigator of all the bullshit in the previous years, and now she’d just turned on him?

Leonard had turned as well, but he didn’t look nearly as surprised as Adam did.

“What?” Adam managed, looking at Miranda with an expression of shock and growing anger. “What the hell do you mean?”

“I mean,” Miranda said calmly, “that you should shut up. It’s not funny. It never was. So either grow up or shut up.”

Adam blinked at her. “Miranda, you -”

“Grew up,” she interrupted. “And I’ve outgrown this bullshit.” She tossed a glance over her shoulder. “Sorry it took so long.”

Sara gave her a little shrug. “No worries.”

Adam gasped, sounding so hurt that Sara might have felt bad for him, if he hadn't narrowed his eyes at Miranda and take a threatening step nearer to her.

“What the hell is your problem?!”

Miranda stood her ground, merely smiling. “Currently, you.” She grabbed another cookie and bit into it, with so much insolence that Sara was reminded briefly of the man at her side.

Adam lifted his hand, and Sara, despite knowing, deep down, that he  _ probably  _ wouldn’t do anything, moved. Leonard took a half step forward, too, but she was faster.

She grabbed one of the knives Leonard had just cleaned and hurled it in one motion. It flew right past Adam’s nose, just as she’d planned, and embedded itself into the cabinet next to him.

He froze and then looked at Sara.

She grinned. “Sorry. It slipped.”

Adam took a step back, then another. He threw one more betrayed glance at Miranda, then vanished upstairs. Mildly, she wondered if he’d pull a disappearing act like Brandon, but it was probably too much to hope.

Miranda pulled the knife out of the cabinet, looking at it before lifting her eyes to Sara. “Nice shot.”

“I practice,” Sara said, taking it back and putting it in the sink to clean it again. Leonard moved to the stairwell, glancing up it, but apparently only to give the two cousins some space and/or make sure that Adam was really going.

Miranda looked at her for a long time. Then she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” Sara said honestly.

Miranda was shaking her head, but Sara took a step forward.

“No, I fought back, too,” Sara said quietly. “I’m sorry for all the things I said.”

“Not nearly as sorry as I am,” she said. She took in a breath, rolling her eyes as it shook. “At least you’re not a hypocrite.”

Sara frowned slightly, missing something, but Leonard looked back, only quiet understanding on his face.

Miranda gave her a little shrug. “My girlfriend says I’m way too concerned with what other people think. She’s right.”

“Oh,” Sara said, everything clicking. Her comments, her demeanor - hell, the year she’d seemed to change was the year that Sara had come out to her mom, at least, who’d been supportive, even if she didn’t completely understand it. Adam had started in on her, and Miranda had jumped into it, too. It had just been self-preservation. God, she understood that, even if it didn’t excuse Miranda’s behavior, she understood.

“How long have you been together?” Sara asked.

“Three years.” Miranda looked towards the door. “My parents don’t know. I almost brought her this year, but I didn’t want...I know how cruel this family can be. I knew that if I brought her, I’d chicken out. I’d hurt her. I don’t want to do that.”

“Well, I’d like to meet her.”

Miranda looked at her out of the corner of her eye, the blue suspiciously shiny. “She wants to meet you, too.”

It was awkward for a moment, but Sara lifted her arms and took a step nearer, and Miranda rolled her eyes and edged closer, and then the two of them were hugging for the first time in years.

Miranda pulled away first, huffing out a breath. “Alright, that’s enough.”

Sara laughed, and Miranda smiled, glancing over at Leonard. “I’m sorry to you, too. For the shit I said. And didn’t say.”

He gave her a little shrug. “No worries.”

Her expression making it clear that she did worry, despite her apparently cavalier attitude, Miranda nodded. “Well, I’ve got a party to get ready for. I’ve got a reputation.”

Sara smiled and let that joke go. “See you later.”

“Later,” Miranda said, giving her a little smile. She moved past Leonard in the stairwell, and disappeared upstairs.

Sara let out a breath she’d been holding, and looked at Leonard as he came back to help her finish with the dishes. “You knew?”

“Suspected,” he corrected. “Just a hunch.”

“Good hunch.”

“Wasn’t much I could do about it,” he said, taking the now clean knife Sara had thrown at Adam. “Had to hope she’d do it on her own.” He looked at the knife. “Nice restraint, by the way.”

“It’d be hard to explain killing him.”

“Not impossible, though,” Leonard said, a faint smirk on his face.

“Done it before.”

He laughed, but the conversation was interrupted as Ruth came in and looked at two of them. “Oh, what are you doing down here still? Go get yourselves ready. I’ll finish washing up.”

“I can do it -” Sara said.

“No, no,” Ruth said, sounding a little frazzled. “No, go get yourselves ready. We’re doing the picture just before everyone starts arriving.”

Sara couldn’t remember the last time they’d done a Christmas family photo. Or, actually, she could. As it had been the one Leonard had gifted to all of them yesterday.

Deciding it was better not to argue, Sara left it to her grandmother and started up the stairs, Leonard ghosting after her. They got to their room, and Leonard shut the door behind them, heading to the closet.

Biting her lip, Sara reached up to the top of the dresser, pulling out the gift bag she’d tucked up there when he was in the bathroom. He glanced at it, and gave her a little smile, but didn’t look surprised.

“You knew?”

“I didn’t look, if it helps,” he said, unrepentant.

Sara rolled her eyes. “Merry Christmas, crook.”

He took the bag with a murmured thanks and reached inside, pulling out the largest thing first. It was a nutcracker, in a black and white striped shirt and pants, and a mask over his eyes. The bag he held over his shoulder wasn’t the original burlap with a money symbol on it, but the mini marshmallows she’d bought.

Leonard smiled at it, lifting his eyes to her. “Is that supposed to be me?”

Sara shrugged with a smile and he let out a sigh. “Ruining my reputation, Lance.”

He put it on the nightstand and reached into the bag again, obviously feeling the weight of the smaller present. He pulled out the ornament she’d seen, a man with an eyepatch, holding a nutcracker in one hand and a pocket watch in another. “Drosselmeyer,” he said.

Sara nodded, a little unsure about that one.

Leonard looked at the ornament for a moment. It had been an impulse buy, after seeing the uncharacteristic painting of the man. Usually, he was completely grey, but this one had flickers of black in his hair, and the clothing was all black, with only hints of blue to lighten the palette.

He lifted his eyes to her. “Thank you.”

“Welcome,” she said. She grabbed her dress off the back of the door where she’d hung it and gestured to the bathroom. “Mind if I -?”

“Go for it.”

Sara rinsed off the bits of flour and dough that had managed to cling to her even after washing dishes. She let her hair dry a bit as she toweled off and started putting on some makeup. Not a lot, but enough to prove she was still trying to behave.

Though, she wasn’t sure she needed to prove it so much anymore. Between her mother and Miranda, and Brandon gone, and Deirdre backing her up, along with Emmet and Henry, and Mick and Laurel, and -

Sara took in a deep breath, smoothing the green dress over her front, twisting her hair up into a braid before pinning it up and out of her way. Her heels were still out in the room, and she put on a swipe of lipstick before stepping out.

Leonard turned as she came out and Sara’s breath caught as she saw him. He apparently changed while she’d been in there, dressed in a dark blue tweed-style suit, with lines of lighter blue going through it that matched his eyes. His shirt was a dark blue button-up, and he arched a brow at her.

“Not bad, Lance.”

She smiled. “Not bad yourself.” Moving over to her bag, she grabbed her heels and used the wall to hold herself up as she slid them on, straightening to find Leonard had come a bit nearer.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a glittering silver chain. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”

Sara recognized the little Celtic snowflake from their first day here, the blue stones matching his suit. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know.” He gestured with a hand for her to turn and Sara did so. Most times, having someone standing behind her would make her tense, but she knew it was Leonard. She trusted Leonard.

Hell, she was in love with Leonard, and was so tired of pretending otherwise.

Of course she and Ava hadn’t lasted when he came back, because Sara had thought he was dead. If she’d know there was a chance, however slim, she would have broken time again to get him back. The only reason she’d tried to move on was because what other choice did she have? Wallow in misery? Yearn for a man who was never coming back?

Except he did. And he was here. And when he died, she’d made so many bargains to the silent Power That Be for what she’d do if she got a second chance.

Here it was, and she still wasn’t acting on it. How many chances was she going to waste?

Leonard undid the catch as she stood in front of him, draping the cool metal over her neck and fixing it into place. He stepped back and Sara turned around to face him.

The shutters weren’t up in his eyes. He gave her a soft smile. “You look beautiful,” he said, in the privacy of their room, with no one to hear but her.

“You look very handsome,” Sara replied, in the same tone. “As always.”

He took a step forward and Sara reached up to touch the necklace at her throat. Leonard looked down at it, then back up at her.

“Look, Sara, after tonight -”

“Everybody downstairs!” Ruth shouted up the stairwell. “It’s time for the picture!”

“Or I’ll set Lucas on you!” Emmet added.

Sara let out a frustrated sigh, but Leonard just gave her a little smile and held out his hand to her. “Shall we?”

Sara took his hand, knowing that wherever he was, that’s where she wanted to be. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Mick shifted uncomfortably as Ruth pushed him back towards the group.

“You’re part of the family now,” Ruth said. “Go stand behind Laurel. Lucas, you - Lucas?”

“Here!”

“Front and center, young man,” she said, pushing him towards the middle. “I’ll stand behind you, then Dinah and Deirdre, dears, on either side. Then Dawson and David on the outside.”

She continued to order everyone else around. Mick’s only consolation was that Snart looked just as uncomfortable being pushed into the photo, too. He and Blondie were standing pretty close, but there was still that tense look around his eyes. Idiots still hadn’t talked.

“Think if I lock them in the room, they’ll actually talk?” Mick murmured to Laurel.

She glanced to where he was looking and then back up at him. “Do you think a lock is going to stop him?”

Mick grunted, acknowledging the point there. He glanced around the group again. No Brandon, still. Rumor from Henry was that the shit had up and left the other night, by Quinn’s request. She might not have been the brightest bulb, but at least she was smart enough to cut dead weight like him. She wasn’t even wearing the ring anymore. And Adam - that guy, who’d been following Miranda around like she was the second coming of Christ, he was almost avoiding her, standing on the opposite side, shooting daggers at her and Sara equally. 

Interesting.

“Alright, everyone, get ready!” Ruth said, setting the timer on the camera.

Laurel leaned back into him, and Mick wrapped his arm around her waist, an unintentional smile escaping just in time for the flash to go off. No one moved as Ruth went to check it. She stared at the screen for a long moment, then looked at them.

“Perfect.”

She clapped her hands and sent them to work on the last few things: pulling the ice in from outside to put in the buckets arranged around the foyer for drinks, taking the foil off the cookies and snacks, checking to make sure the booze was ready and available, and turning on some more Christmas music. The lights were already going, and before he knew it, there was a knock at the door.

It seemed like the whole damn town came in, carrying gifts and more booze, and the music got louder and people were talking. Laurel was mingling and for a while, he drifted behind her, making nice with everyone, but it was wearing on him. He finished off the soda he had in his hand, then gave Laurel a look to say he’d be back.

Mick escaped into the kitchen, relieved at the silence as he tossed the can into the recycle bin. He closed his eyes for a moment, unused to dealing with quite so many people who were so interested in talking to him. He hid in the kitchen for a bit longer, then took a breath before heading back out to brave the masses again. 

He lingered on the side of the room, eyeing the crowd as he looked for Laurel. Snart and Blondie were in a corner, talking to Miranda, of all people. Mick tensed, but the three of them were actually smiling, while Adam was glaring at them from the bar. Leonard caught his eye and Mick raised his brows, confirming they didn’t need help. Snart gave him a little shake of his head and continued talking. Guess they were good, then.

Momma Lance was chatting with Dawson, with Emmet joining in. Deirdre, Henry, and Lucas were on the dance floor, and as Mick watched, Henry went to the edge of the crowd and pulled a reluctant looking Quinn into the dance. She resisted for a moment, then jumped in, spinning Lucas around and making him laugh.

Jacqueline and Tiana were standing and talking to Susanne, fervently and with lots of gestures. Mick narrowed his eyes at them, not sure if that was a good tone or not. They were interrupted by a few of the townsfolk, and very clearly changed the subject, but Susanne looked thoughtful.

James was trying to talk to Adam, but when it was clear that Adam was wallowing, James left him to go to the dance floor and join Quinn. People from the town were mixed in all over, making it hard to find Laurel. He moved through a little, taking the side door through the living room to avoid the crowd at the bar and food. Stepping into the dark living room, Mick paused, seeing Ferdinand...lurking, no other word for it, by the door. 

He was peering out through a small crack in the door, watching the crowd pass by in the line for the food and drinks. Mick edged closer, making sure to remain silent. Taller than Ferdinand, it was easy for him to catch a glimpse of the people passing by the door. There went Blondie, Dinah, some woman from town, and Laurel was approaching.

Mick lifted his eyes to the top of the door, where there was a sprig of mistletoe attached. If Ferdinand opened up the door at the right moment, Laurel would be beneath it, in the middle of the crowd, all but forcing her to participate to save face for the family.

Whether or not it was the smart move, Mick made it. He stepped up behind Ferdinand and grabbed both the door handle and Ferdinand’s hand, in one massive fist, clenching too tightly for Ferdinand to pull free and shutting the door completely. He thought he caught a glimpse of Laurel’s eye before it shut, but he did it anyway.

“Hey, what -” Ferdinand tried to turn, but he was caught in Mick’s grasp, and he’d come up too close behind him for Ferdinand to do much more than try to crane his neck around to see him.

“Here’s the deal,” Mick growled in his ear. “You’re gonna go back to your wife, and treat her like you give a damn. You aren’t gonna go near Laurel again.”

“Or what?”

“Or I won’t only break your arm, I’ll make sure you won’t be doing anythin’ with that mouth other than drinkin’ your meals through a straw. Am I fuckin’ clear?”

Ferdinand opened his mouth, looking a little too belligerent, still. Mick squeezed his hand, feeling some minor pops as he cracked a few of Ferdinand’s knuckles. Then he squeezed a bit more.

Ferdinand hissed in pain, trying to pull free.

“I said, am I clear?” Mick repeated, trying to put in that dangerous tone Snart had down so pat.

“Yes, yes, you’re clear!” Ferdinand said.

Mick held on for another moment, just to prove his point, then released him. Ferdinand took a few steps back from him, rubbing his hand. “What the hell’s the matter with you people?”

“With me?” Mick asked, amused. “I’m not the problem here.”

Clearly not wanting to have any sort of discussion with him, Ferdinand just moved, going out through the side door that Mick had entered through, around through one of the other halls to the main room.

As Ferdinand exited, another person entered. Laurel, in her holly red dress, came into the room, giving Mick a look that said she definitely heard most, if not all of that conversation.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and set his jaw. “He deserved it.”

“No doubt,” Laurel said, sounding calm. She didn’t appear annoyed, which was...confusing to him.

“You’re not mad?”

Laurel tilted her head and took a step nearer. “Why would I be mad?”

“I got involved in your shit. I know you can handle it, but I didn’t want him to make a scene with your folks.”

When she continued just to look at him, he pulled one hand out to rub the back of his neck.

“You said your ex did that, and you hated it.”

Clarity lit up behind Laurel’s eyes, and she gave him a little smile. “No, Mick. I hated that Tommy never let me speak for myself in those sorts of situations. He always stepped in, whether I needed it or not. You only step in when I need it, like now. You let me handle things, too.”

“I know you can stand up for yourself,” he said, putting his hand back in his pocket as she came a little bit nearer, just to avoid temptation.

“And that’s what makes it different. You trust me, and I trust you.” She gave him another little smile and closed all but the smallest distance between the two of them, something in her expression suggesting that she knew he was trying not to touch her and she was challenging that.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” she continued, a little softer, “I’m all about being open. I don’t like miscommunications. I told Tommy several times that I didn’t like his behavior, and he refused to change. If you did something that upset or frustrated me, I would tell you, clearly and calmly. You don’t have to worry about me flying off the handle. I’m sure it’ll happen, but it’ll be over something stupid. Not anything that you’ve done, and especially not something that comes from good intentions.”

Mick took a moment to process that. His dad, though not the same kind of awful as Snart’s, had been a man raised in toxic masculinity, and Mick had embodied a lot of that in his younger years. He’d been getting better; getting his ass handed to him by Blondie every time they trained, not to mention Amaya, and Big Bird, the few times she deigned to train with him, went a long way to getting rid of it, as did his friendship with Z and Charlie, and Spooky Girl was off the charts with power. Feelings, though, they were a whole other matter. He hadn’t begun to figure those out until it was too late.

_ You may not think that you're a hero, but you're a hero to me. _

Mick looked down at this amazing woman, who was clear and open with what she wanted and liked and knew, no games. He might not be good at the whole dating thing, but for her, he’d give it his best damn shot.

“If you’re about bein’ open,” he said quietly. “Then I guess I have something to tell you.”

Laurel just raised her brows.

“The ‘in’ I have with Rebecca Silver, is that I was Rebecca Silver for a while,” Mick said.

Whatever she apparently thought he was going to say, it wasn’t that. Her eyes went wide. “What?”

“Started writin’, sent out a few things, and gave myself a pen name. A friend of mine writes as her now, but the first few books were mine.”

“You’re Rebecca Silver,” she repeated, not sounding as if she didn’t believe him, but just completely shocked. “Oh my god, I bought your book in front of you.”

Mick chuckled. “I took it as a compliment.”

Laurel covered her face with her hands, but he could see a smile peeking out from the edges of her fingers. Mick reached out with a grin, cupping her elbow and drawing her a little nearer. “Come on, Counselor. Thought we were about bein’ open.”

Laurel dropped her hands to rest them against his chest, still smiling. “Got any other surprises like that for me?”

“Dunno, ever been to D.C.?”

Laurel laughed. Her eyes were dancing and her cheeks flushed with either embarrassment or amusement, and she smelled like violets and Mick couldn’t resist.

He leaned down and kissed her. Laurel’s fingers curled into his shirt for a moment as she tilted her head to deepen the kiss, as they’d done last night. He followed her lead, wrapping his arms around her waist.

There was a thud on the closed door that led to the party, which broke the two of them apart, though not very far.

Laurel bit her lip and seemed to take a moment to catch her breath, which was definitely a boost to his ego. Always nice to know he hadn’t lost his moves. Mick loosened his grip, but didn’t let her go entirely.

“Let’s...pick that up later,” Laurel said, her voice still a little breathless. “We should get back to the party.”

Mick followed her lead, the two of them taking the side door out to the rest of the revelry.

And if he kept an eye out for any mistletoe, it was just to make sure there were no lonely losers lingering under it, that was all.

* * *

As the doors closed on the last guest, Leonard let out a silent sigh of relief, hearing Sara do the same next to him. He exchanged a look with her, seeing her echo his own exhaustion. Tracking down Encores and killers? No sweat. Small talk with strangers for several hours? Soul-sucking.

Emmet had disappeared around eleven, carrying Lucas as an excuse to bail early, and Leonard was a little jealous. After one in the morning, and the place was a mild disaster. Dinah was starting to pick up some of the mess and the others joined in, albeit a little reluctantly.

Sara went into the kitchen to grab some trash bags, the necklace he’d given her the source of several compliments. And everytime, she’d touched it and looked at him with a smile that didn’t seem to be meant for anybody but him, regardless of the act.

Was it even an act anymore? The few moments of real privacy they’d had, Sara had made more overt comments than he’d expected, opening up the opportunity for him to reciprocate and he’d...almost done so.

Sara moved into the living room, which had been opened up as people imbibed a bit more and needed more chairs. Grabbing some disposable cups, Leonard eyed the way Mick and Laurel were with one another, the easy conversation and constant leaning into one another, how Mick seemed legitimately happy. He was happy for his friend, of course, but why was it so damn hard for him and Sara?

Probably because he was a damned coward.

Leonard went into the living room to toss the cups in the bag Sara had.

“You can head up,” he told her. “I can finish this.”

She smiled up at him. “I’m alright. Did you have an okay time?”

“I survived,” he responded, smothering a small yawn.

Sara laughed at that, grabbing the last few cups. Leonard scanned the room and figured they were good. He held the door open for Sara as she left, the bag in hand.

“Oooh!” Jacqueline shouted from nearby.

Leonard hid his flinch at her voice, seeing her pointing above his head. He looked up and saw a piece of greenery above him and Sara.

“Gotta kiss under the mistletoe,” David said, an empty wine glass in his hand, for once. “Or it’s bad luck.”

There were still people moving and cleaning, not all of them paid attention or cared, but enough of the family was watching. David and Jacqueline, Adam, though with a glare. Ruth. Deirdre. Mick and Laurel.

Sara glanced up at him, pink in her cheeks, and Leonard was so tired of being a coward. She’d opened the door, but he had to step through if he wanted this to go anywhere.

And he very much did want this. Sara. Them.

So Leonard put his hand around her elbow and leaned down, telegraphing his moves in case she really wanted to stop it. She didn’t move, not towards him, but not away, either.

Leonard kissed her gently, not entirely what he’d had in mind for their first - second - kiss, especially the whole audience. But he made the best of it.

Her lips felt much warmer than his, fire to his ice, and he wondered what he’d been so afraid of. He and Sara fit together in every way - fighting, working, kissing. Him and her.

He pulled away after a moment, Sara opening her eyes as he looked down at her. From the side, he heard David give a low whistle, but ignored the rest of them.

Sara glanced at her family with a little smile, and the noise resumed as they went about their business. She looked back up at him, and Leonard was mildly disconcerted to realize he couldn’t read her expression. Her eyes were as unreadable as he knew his could be, especially when he was uncomfortable.

“That was...unexpected,” she said quietly.

All of his instincts were screaming that he’d done something wrong. But he hadn’t, had he? She’d been suggesting -

Except she hadn’t actually suggested anything. She’d implied. She’d talked around. But she never said that she wanted…

And he’d just gone and kissed her, while her family looked on, and she hadn’t had a choice, not if she wanted to keep the act going. The act where he went as her pretend boyfriend. Not her friend. Or a real date, but an act.

Conversations aside, she hadn’t actually said that she wanted something real, not with him. She’d said she hadn’t wanted Ava. That she’d missed him, but that didn’t mean this.

Fuck, she’d even said she didn’t want to kiss, to pretend that far, the night they talked about it. She’d been so worried about his boundaries, and he just -

Leonard let his expression smooth out, shuttering his eyes as fully as hers were now. He had to say something, to put them back where they’d been, as friends at least. He had to fix what he could, make it clear they could still work together, if nothing else, because at least something was better than nothing. Hoping his voice wouldn’t give anything away, he decided on:

“Gotta sell it.”

Sara didn’t move, but he felt her pull away. Something in her face, and the way her shoulders, always slightly turned towards him, rotated. She gave him a small, tight smile, the same she’d given Ruth that first day here, and carried the trash bag to the kitchen.

Leonard helped with the rest of the cleanup, so many hands making it quick work. All of them but Ruth trooped upstairs, one tired gaggle, but Leonard didn’t see Sara.

He got back to his room - their room, but the bathroom door was open and she wasn’t there.

He got ready for bed and, with a significant hesitation, sat down on the chair, but Sara still wasn’t there.

He waited, exhaustion doing nothing to the guilt and self-loathing careening inside his skull, but she didn’t come back to the room.

Leonard watched the sun come up, and Sara didn’t come back.

Maybe there was something to be said for cowardice after all.


	11. 2 Broken Hearts

“Sara!” Laurel shouted for the third time.

Standing in the middle of an abandoned warehouse, yelling at a shimmering piece of half-visible metal wasn’t what Laurel had planned for her first weekend back in Star City after the Christmas chaos, but here she was, all because her sister was a stubborn little -

“Sara!” she shouted again, hitting the chrome door in front of her. “Open the door, or I swear, I will call Felicity and bring her down here to rip out all of your ship’s wires until you -”

The door slid open, revealing the interior of...a time ship. Laurel hesitated, then stepped aboard. “Sara?”

**“Welcome aboard, Ms. Lance. We haven’t been properly introduced. My name is Gideon, the Waverider’s AI.”**

Laurel jumped at the pleasant, British, feminine voice, looking up towards the ceiling. “Hi, Gideon. Sara’s told me a lot about you. It’s nice to meet you.”

**“And you, Ms. Lance. Since you made a direct threat to the safety of the** **_Waverider,_ ** **I was able to override Captain Lance’s command that no one was to come aboard.”**

“I...I didn’t really mean it,” Laurel admitted, looking around at the room she was in. It had metal grating and several boxes. Some kind of cargo hold.

**“Oh, I’m well aware of that, Ms. Lance.”** She sounded smug. Laurel wasn’t certain how an AI could be smug, but Gideon definitely sounded it.  **“But I believe it’s called plausible deniability, should Captain Lance ask.”**

Laurel smiled. “I like you, Gideon.”

**“I’m flattered, Ms. Lance. Captain Lance is on the bridge. Continue through the door, taking the second right, and the bridge will be at the end of that hallway.”**

“Thank you.”

**“You are most welcome, Ms. Lance.”**

Laurel took Gideon’s directions, eyeing the rooms she came across as she passed them. A training room, a kitchen and eating area, a few closed doors, and then -

The bridge was much larger than she expected, the huge windows displaying just the interior of the warehouse, but the computer in the middle showing a map of stars and routes that didn’t seem to have anything to do with the world, but the universe itself. Laurel stared at it for a moment, barely noticing Sara in front of the images, until her sister let out a sigh and turned to face her, crossing her arms.

“Thanks for the backup, Gideon,” Sara said sarcastically.

**“Ms. Lance threatened to bring attention to the** **_Waverider._ ** **Protecting the ship and its crew are my primary directive -”**

“Liar,” Sara said, but seemed to let it go, rolling her eyes at Laurel as she directed her next comment to her. “What are you doing here?”

Laurel glared at her, noting that Sara wasn’t meeting her eyes. “Trying to check up on my sister.”

“I’m fine,” Sara said, such a blatant lie that Laurel just stared at her.

Sara glared right back, neither one of them budging until Laurel sighed.

“Sara...come on.”

The day after Christmas, Laurel had come downstairs to see Leonard already at the kitchen table, his eyes sunken in and his mouth in a hard line. Mick, who’d come in behind her, had sworn under his breath.

“Boss?”

Ruth had swept in before Leonard could answer, not that Laurel was certain he was going to. Dinah and Sara had come down a bit later, bringing their bags down with them. Laurel watched how Leonard’s eyes had followed Sara, but she hadn’t looked at him.

Their flight left relatively early in the afternoon, and in the chaos of the goodbyes, Sara had managed to avoid Leonard entirely. She hugged Miranda tightly, the two of them exchanging numbers and emails, which was encouraging. Ruth had even given Sara a tight hug and said she hoped to see her next year. That made the shadows in Sara’s eyes disappear for a moment, though when the car came to collect them, Sara managed to snag a seat in the corner, Dinah taking the one next to her, though her mom didn’t look completely thrilled.

Yesterday, Laurel had met up with her mom for coffee, though it was obviously a ruse to check in on how Sara was doing. Dinah admitted to talking to Leonard and regretting what she said.

“I didn’t mean for him to stay away from her. I just wanted him to choose her for real,” Dinah explained, guilt in her tone and face. Laurel had patted her hand and said she wasn’t sure that had anything to do with what happened.

On the plane, Sara had taken the single seat, popping in her headphones and closing her eyes, not opening them until they landed in Star City, despite Laurel’s best efforts to get her to talk. She sat with her mother, hoping Mick could get something out of Leonard, but the crook seemed recalcitrant as well, from the glower on Mick’s face when she went to use the restroom.

After they collected their luggage, Sara had given Laurel and Dinah a hug, saying she had to go directly to the  _ Waverider,  _ and that was the last Laurel had heard from her, until today.

“What?” Sara said, cutting her eyes at Laurel.

“What happened?”

Sara rolled her eyes, but Laurel could see the sadness tugging at her shoulders and the corners of her mouth. “Nothing happened. Nothing.”

Laurel heard the meaning behind that and took a few steps closer, ignoring the fascinating looking room at the back of the bridge, chock full of books and artifacts and -

She refocused on her sister. “You two kissed on Christmas.”

Sara flinched, in a way that not even the cruelest comments from the cousins at Christmas could draw out. “It was just part of the act.”

“You don’t know that -”

“Well, he said it,” Sara interrupted harshly, “so I think I know it.”

Laurel frowned, not believing that, but knowing that it’s what Sara heard. “What did he say exactly?”

“He said, ‘gotta sell it.’”

Okay. Not great.

Sara huffed out a breath, pushing her hair back from her face. “It’s fine. I knew what I was getting into. It was pretend. I’ve just gotta...get over it before the New Year and everyone comes back. It’ll be fine.” She looked at the displays. “I’ll be fine.”

“Sara, I know what he said, but I don’t think he meant it,” Laurel said gently. “He cares about you.”

“We’re friends,” Sara said, sounding so young despite all of the things she’d seen and done. “We’re just friends. And that’s enough.”

“Is it?”

Sara met her eyes for the first time, giving her a helpless little shrug. “It has to be. He...I lost him once. I won’t lose him again just because I want more than he does.”

“Sara -”

“It’s over, Laurel,” Sara said, sounding a bit more like a captain. “We’re done talking about it.”

“But -”

“Laurel.”

Laurel huffed, not willing to let it go completely, but knowing that pushing it now wouldn’t help. “Mom said you haven’t been by since Christmas.”

“I’ve been busy,” Sara said, on her empty ship, with nothing but an AI to talk to.

Laurel let it go. “Are you going to come to the New Year’s Party at Verdant?”

“I don’t know.” She paused. “You and Mick going?”

“Yeah.”

Sara gave her a little smile. “Good.”

If Sara’s love life had imploded because of Christmas, Laurel’s had thrived. Mick had been over several times for dinner, even spending the night a few times, though they had yet to take that next step, which Laurel was fine on waiting for, for a little bit. Mick had gotten better at taking the initiative with kissing and touching her, but she wanted him to be comfortable before they went any further. She so appreciated his concern and focus on making sure she was happy, but she trusted him. Now he just needed to believe her when she said it. They both needed to be ready.

It was going so well, and Laurel wanted to talk about it with Sara, but she felt guilty. The idea to bring fake boyfriends had been hers, she was the one who’d suggested Snart in the first place, and now…

Now, she felt like she ruined Sara’s life when it was on the verge of being perfect.

**“Captain Lance,”** Gideon said,  **“the analysis on the appearance of the Encores has finished compiling. You asked to be notified.”**

“Yeah, thanks, Gideon.” Sara gestured to her office. “I should get back to that. It looks like we’ve got a few smaller jumps planned in the next week or so, if you’re interested in jumping on board for a trip or two.”

Laurel smiled, glancing up at the ceiling, where Gideon was located, and then back at the bridge. “I am.”

Sara gave her a real smile then. “I’m glad. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Promise?” Laurel asked.

“Promise,” she repeated.

When Laurel extended her arms for a hug, Sara rolled her eyes, but stepped in and hugged her back tightly.

“I might not have a time machine,” Laurel said quietly, “but I’ll always make time if you need to talk.”

“It’s a time ship,” Sara corrected. “And thanks.”

Laurel held onto her for another minute, then let go reluctantly. She stepped back and watched as Sara took a deep breath, her back straightening and her shoulders drawing back, the picture of confidence and cool, even if she wasn’t either. She gave Laurel a smile and a cocky salute, then went to the office, Gideon displayed a complicated set of charts as Sara began to scan through them.

Part of Laurel was intrigued by just watching the way Sara took command, planning and preparing for what Laurel knew were dangerous and complicated situations. She was so proud of her, even if her heart was breaking for her at the same time.

Laurel took the same route back to the exit of the ship. Before she stepped out, though, she put her hand on the door and looked up at the ceiling.

“What do you think, Gideon?”

**“About what, Ms. Lance?”**

“About Leonard and Sara?”

The AI was silent for a long time, so long that Laurel thought she might not answer at all.  **“I think...that the team performs best when Mr. Snart and Captain Lance work together. Professionally and personally.”**

“That’s what I think, too. Can you contact me if Sara attempts to do something stupid, like take off on her own?”

**“I am able to contact you, yes, but I would recommend narrowing those parameters a bit more.”**

Laurel let out a faint laugh. “Good point.”

**“If I may say so, Ms. Lance, I am quite happy for you and Mr. Rory.”**

“Thank you.”

**“You are most welcome, and welcome aboard whenever you please.”**

Laurel thanked her again. “Goodbye, Gideon.”

**“Until later, Ms. Lance.”**

* * *

Mick looked over when the door to Laurel’s apartment opened, the woman herself stepping in with a sigh.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

The look on her face said it all, and Mick shook his head. “Idiots.”

“How’d it go with Leonard?” Laurel asked, unwinding her scarf and hanging it up beside his coat.

Mick scoffed, rolling his eyes. Snart was in rare form. Silent and taciturn were Snart’s go-to when he was actually upset, but this was something new. He’d almost say it was anger, but it didn’t seem to be directed at Mick or Blondie, and the Drake family had stepped up their shit enough that they’d all left on decent terms.

Except for Adam, but no one gave a shit about him.

But Snart had been silent and fuming, and Mick couldn’t even mention Blondie’s name without a truly chilly Captain Cold kind of glare and a refusal to discuss the matter at all. His attitude was enough to encourage him to spend the past few nights at Laurel’s, not that Mick needed the push. He and Counselor had been doing well, and though he didn’t want to rub it in Snart’s face (okay, he kind of did), spending time away from Snart seemed to be what he wanted. Or at least what he said he wanted.

“He’s not sayin’ anything,'' Mick told her as she came over, tucking her legs underneath her as she sat next to him and leaned into his shoulder. “He seems pissed.”

“He apparently said that kiss was just to sell the whole fake boyfriend thing,” Laurel told him.

“Bullshit,” Mick said.

_ “I _ know,” Laurel responded. “But Sara...she’s scared if she pushes him about this, he’ll just leave.”

“And he’s too damn gun-shy to make the move himself.”

He’d been around Snart long enough to recognize that self-preservation mode. Shutting out everything until he could deal with his shit again. But Mick had thought, with all the Oculus bullshit, he’d grown out of it. Old habits die hard, he supposed. Especially with stuff he legitimately cared about.

Like Blondie.

“Sara’s been on the  _ Waverider  _ the whole time, working with Gideon,” Laurel said, wriggling until she was under Mick’s arm. “I don’t think she’ll leave on any trips, but Gideon’s going to call me if she does.”

“Metalmouth’s good like that.” Mick leaned his head back on the couch. “Dunno what Snart’s going to do when we leave.”

“What, what?” Laurel asked, sitting up.

Mick met her frustrated gaze. “He’s talkin’ about maybe takin’ some time off the  _ Waverider. _ He said it was to visit his sister, but I know that’s just -”

“How much time?” Laurel asked.

“Dunno.”

“If he leaves, Sara will never say anything about this, ever again. She’ll give it up for good.”

“And Snart’ll never push it.”

“Fuck that,” Laurel said, standing up. “Where is he?”

Startled by the language, Counselor hadn’t sworn like that in front of him before, Mick stared up at her. “What?”

“Where. Is. He.”

“At the apartment, but what -”

Laurel was already moving, grabbing her scarf and coat. She was halfway out the door before Mick got to his feet, snagging his coat off the wall before chasing after her.

“Counselor, what are you doing?”

“I’m fixing this since they can’t bother to fix it themselves.” She stomped off the street towards Leonard and Mick’s apartment and Mick, despite his longer legs, was hard-pressed to keep up with her. He looked down at the furious woman next to him, and something settled into his chest unexpectedly.

Not the time, he thought.

Laurel didn’t explain her plan and Mick wasn’t going to ask, the idea of Counselor reaming Snart a little too appealing for him to try and talk her out of it. Snart needed someone to call him out, and since he wouldn’t listen to Mick…

Mick typed in the code to the apartment and led Laurel upstairs, unlocking the door. She blew past him into the apartment, no one on the couch or at the small kitchen table.

“Leonard Snart!” Laurel shouted. “Get out here!”

Mick grinned at her, just shutting the door behind him. It took a moment, but Leonard opened his bedroom door, his face drawn into a scathing look of disapproval.

“Laurel,” he drawled, sounding more like his asshole alter ego than ever did with the Drakes. “To what do I owe this...unexpected visit?”

“I’m here to talk some sense into your thick skull, you dumbass.”

Leonard arched a brow. “Appreciate it, but I’m not interested in -”

“I am not here to listen to you talk, Snart,” Laurel cut in, her voice just as commanding as Snart’s could be, and her glare just as forbidding. “You’re going to listen to me before you ruin what little chance you have left by doing something asinine over a miscommunication. I know you love the sound of your own voice, but do us all, especially yourself, a favor, and keep your mouth shut for five minutes.”

Leonard blinked, as good as a shout from him, and Mick’s grin widened.

“I know you think you know best, but we’re going to take this one point at a time, so you can see just what a complete idiot you’re being. Got it?”

Leonard leaned against the frame, crossed his arms. “Enlighten me, then.”

Waiting a moment, maybe to see if he would listen to her, Laurel took a step closer. “When you died, Sara was devastated. She talked about missed opportunities and regrets that kept her up at night, and I know that was about you. You know it, too.” Laurel paused, but Leonard remained silent. “I know you kissed at the Oculus.”

Mick hadn’t been certain, but he’d figured something had happened. He watched Leonard’s face, but he was in peak Snart form, and nothing flickered.

“So, point one, Sara cared about you before you died. Based on the ‘me and you’ conversation she mentioned, you cared about her, too. Point two.”

Leonard didn’t move, neither to deny nor confirm, and Mick turned his eyes back to Laurel, feeling like he was watching a tennis match or some shit.

“Before you came back, she and Ava were on the rocks. Ava talked down to her, tried to make Sara into...someone else. When they broke up, Ava brought up you. She basically, in not so many words, made her choose between Ava and you. Sara chose you. Point three.”

Oh, Mick noticed a flicker that time. A shift in Leonard's stance. Subtle, but there. Laurel must have noticed it, too, because she took a step closer.

“When I suggested bringing you as a fake date, she hesitated, when every other name had been met with laughter. That stands to reason that she feels differently about you than any other friend. Point four.”

“That’s circumstantial, at best,” Leonard finally broke and spoke. “She had no other option. Everyone else we know was busy or married.”

Mick jumped in then. “Come on, boss. You know that she’d only ask if she legitimately liked you.”

Leonard cut his eyes over at him. “And what would you know about it?”

“I’m an award-winning romance writer, dumbass,” Mick shot back. “I’ve seen that shit a thousand times. Called a goddamn trope for a reason.”

“Point four,” Laurel repeated. “Point five, Sara struggled on the trip not because she was uncomfortable around you, but because she couldn’t figure out what was real and what wasn’t.”

“You don’t know -”

“She’s my sister,” Laurel interrupted. “I know because she told me. Multiple times. Which leads me to point six, Sara still likes you. And, based on this,” she gestured at Leonard's general demeanor, “and the fact that you aren’t saying anything to Mick, you still care about her, too. Point seven.”

She let out a breath and took another step towards him, her eyes narrowing. “So what the hell are you doing? Go talk to her like the adult you claim to be! You had no problem calling everyone else out on their shit in England, but you can’t own up to your own? Didn’t figure you for a coward and a hypocrite,  _ Captain Cold.” _

Damn. If Mick wasn’t in love with Laurel already, that would have sold it for him.

Leonard’s jaw jumped and Mick had a momentary, fleeting thought, that he was glad the cold gun was aboard the _Waverider._ Not that Snart would have actually frozen her, but he might have drawn it. “You don’t know everything.”

“Enlighten me, then,” Laurel mocked. “Because right now, you’re nothing but a dumbass for not seeing the obvious.”

Mick chuckled, and though Leonard dropped his arms, his fists clenched in uncharacteristic anger, he didn’t look over at him.

“I overstepped,” Leonard said bluntly.

Mick recalled the look on Blondie’s face as she left after the whole mistletoe thing, and she did look upset. But…

“You asshole,” Laurel said, her voice gentle but firm. “She wasn’t upset that you kissed her. She was upset that you said it was part of the act. She wanted it to be real.”

Leonard blinked. “I -”

“She loves you,” Laurel said clearly. “And you love her. So stop being a martyr and go get the happy ending the two of you seem so convinced you don’t deserve. Because I want to talk about how great things are going with Mick, and I can’t do that when you two are being pathetic and wallowing. Get your shit together, so we can all go to this New Year’s Eve party and make Oliver’s head explode.”

Mick looked at her, grinning. Leonard stared at her, too. Then he turned to Mick, his face saying it all.

“I know,” Mick said, still grinning. “Lance women, right?”

Leonard shook his head as if trying to clear it. He looked back at Laurel. “She’s on the  _ Waverider?” _

“Yes,” Laurel said, sounding relieved.

He gave them a little nod, heading into his room, but leaving the door open.

Laurel looked over at Mick, appearing tired, but victorious.

Mick moved closer. “Badass,” he reminded her.

She let out a little laugh, leaning up towards him, but her phone rang. She reached into her pocket and picked up. “Hello?”

Leonard came back out, pulling his coat over his shoulders, and pocketing something. Mick gave him a grin.

“Go get her, brother,” he said.

Leonard gave him a faint smile.

“Gideon?” Laurel said.

Mick’s smile faded and he looked back at Counselor, who was frowning.

“Why? I thought she wasn’t -” Laurel stopped, the frown getting worse. “No, I know you tried, but...when will she be back?”

A pit dropped into Mick’s stomach, and he chanced a look at Leonard, whose expression had locked down again, the low glow of hope already vanishing.

“Okay. Then I’ll call her and -” Laurel stopped and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Of course not. Fine, then as soon as you can, tell her that Mick said Leonard is thinking about taking some time away from the  _ Waverider.” _

“I’m not -” Leonard started, but Laurel held up a hand to cut him off.

“Call me the second she gets back here. And thank you, Gideon.” Laurel murmured a goodbye, then hung up, looking at the other two.

Mick spoke first. “Blondie went off alone, didn’t she?”

“A low-level aberration in ancient Greece, apparently. It was low risk, and a simple job,” Laurel said, sounding frustrated. “Sara’s just jumping at anything to keep busy. I can’t call her, because phones don’t work in ancient Greece.”

“Downside of time travel,” Mick observed.

“Gideon’s going to call me the second she’s back,” Laurel said, looking at Leonard.

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he asked, “Why are you having Gideon say I’m leaving? I’m not. Not now.”

Laurel looked at him for a long moment. “Come on, Leonard. The only thing Sara fears more than telling you how she feels is you leaving.” Laurel straightened her scarf and said, as if it was obvious, “We have to motivate her somehow.”

Mick stared at the brilliant, badass woman and realized he was the luckiest son of bitch ever.

“Now,” Laurel said, taking off her coat and folding it over the back of the couch. “What movies do you have?”

“Excuse me?” Leonard asked, still looking a little off-balance.

“If you think I’m going to leave and give you an opportunity to have second thoughts, you’re very much mistaken,” Laurel said, taking a seat and leveling a glare at him. “I’m here to make sure you follow through. So, movies?”

Mick took a seat next to her and grinned up at his partner.

Leonard let out a disbelieving noise, cutting his eyes at Mick. “Lance women indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow’s post of A Fool’s Holiday might be delayed until the day after Christmas. The last chapter of this is still not where I want it, and I’d rather delay by one day than give something subpar.
> 
> Happy holidays!


	12. And Assassins Who Climb Up Pear Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays! I hope this is a satisfying conclusion.

Sara walked towards the  _ Waverider, _ the aberration - a Magic 8 Ball of all things - retrieved and the people of Delphi having to find a new oracle. She tossed it in her hands a couple times, the ease of a simple aberration mission fulfilling without causing any danger or disorder.

Well, sure, the guards weren’t all that thrilled, but they’d be fine when they woke up.

It had been nice to get out and stretch her legs. She hadn’t been able to do much training while in England, and even though the visit had been mostly more positive than she would have expected it to be, she was glad to have things back to normal.

Kind of.

Everyone was supposed to return to the  _ Waverider  _ on January 2nd, to give them time to celebrate the New Year (and recover) before they jumped back into work. She’d had a few messages from Gary, who was essentially working as her and Ava’s go-between. Things between her and Ava were still strained, but Sara made sure to be polite, and Ava had spent too much time aboard the  _ Waverider  _ to give her new little Time Bureau too much leverage over them.

It also helped that they only had a couple of time couriers now, and needed the Legends to handle the larger missions or ones that required a team. And the Legends had been performing even better than when Ava had been aboard, so there was little to complain about. Not that she didn’t, but…

Sara sighed as she got closer to the  _ Waverider _ . Her relationship with Ava might have been strained, but her relationship with her family had actually never been better. Adam was still a dumpster fire, but everyone else had said goodbye to her with hugs and promises to stay in touch. She and Miranda had already exchanged a few emails and Miranda mentioned coming out to Star City in the spring. Sara had even sent Ruth a message thanking her for having her, and Ruth had answered with a very kind note and open invitation for Sara and “that very nice Mr. Snart” to come and visit whenever they chose.

A pit opened up in Sara’s stomach at that thought, though she kept moving forward. That was the one wrinkle in...everything. Leonard.

She took a deep breath, using some breathing techniques to stem the stress in her body. She hadn’t handled his rejection that well, and that was on her. There had been no promises, no expectations, and everything he’d said and done could be attributed to playing the part she’d asked him to play. So she had a few more days to recover and push it all down before he was back in her space and day-to-day life.

Sara would always love Leonard Snart, she knew that. But if she could only have him as a friend, then that would be enough for her. Better to have him as something than nothing.  She’d already had nothing, and knew that this, though still painful, was preferable to that.

Pushing back her shoulders, Sara opened up the airlock to the ship and stepped aboard, closing the door behind her.

“You know,” she said, up to the ceiling, “I don’t hate the toga thing.” The fabric was thin and flowed beautifully to the ground, but still easy to move around it. She tossed the Magic 8 Ball into one of the open cargo boxes; there was nothing supernatural about it, after all. “Think the fabricator could make some pajamas like this? Because that would be -”

**“Captain Lance, you have a message from your sister.”**

Sara paused in taking off the sandals she’d worn. “Is she okay?”

**“Yes, Captain. I will play the message.”**

Holding her breath, she heard Gideon pipe through Laurel’s voice:

_ “...as soon as you can, tell her that Mick said Leonard is thinking about taking some time away from the  _ Waverider.”

The air punched out of her. Leonard was...leaving? But she’d done everything right? She’d made it clear it was just an act, like he said. That it didn’t matter. So what -

“Gideon, set a course for December 29th, five minutes after we left.”

Gideon was silent and Sara glared up at the ceiling.

“Gideon?”

**“I apologize, Captain Lance, but I am unable to set a course for that day.”**

“Then get me as close as possible!”

**“Yes, Captain. Setting a course for December 31st.”**

Two days. He wouldn’t leave for Central City now, right? Mick was staying for the party, but if Mick was going with Laurel, then maybe Leonard would leave earlier.

Sara held on as the ship jumped into the time jump, ignoring the faint sense of vertigo. She jogged to her room, changing as quickly as she could, and still getting ready several minutes before the jump finished. She went to the bridge, unable to wait in silence.

**“Captain?”**

“Yeah?” she answered, distracted.

**“What will you say to make Mr. Snart stay?”**

“I don’t know.”

**“You have feelings for Mr. Snart.”**

Sara directed her glare straight forward, knowing that Gideon would see it nonetheless. She didn’t answer. This jump seemed longer than other jumps, or was it just that she was dreading what waited for her? “Irrelevant,” Sara answered.

**“You have not told him, and he’s considering leaving anyway?”**

“Apparently.”

**“So what is the risk in telling him?”**

Sara opened her mouth and paused. “What?”

**“He is leaving without knowing the truth. What harm will the truth do now?”**

“I…” Sara hesitated. Gideon had a point. She hadn’t told Leonard she loved him because she was afraid it was going to scare him off. If he was leaving anyway, why not tell him? Why not take the chance she’d almost taken so many times in England? The one thing she was afraid of happening was happening already.

And there  _ had  _ been a few moments, where she thought it had been real. She reached up, touching the necklace that was still beneath her shirt, even if she hid it from Laurel when she was here. Maybe Laurel was right, maybe Leonard did…

“It could push him away permanently,” Sara finally said. 

**“Since Mr. Snart’s return, you have been performing better, sleeping better, and overall levels of dopamine have increased. He showed similar results after the departure of Ms. Sharpe.”**

“Maybe he just didn’t like Ava.”

**“I have spent years analyzing this team in all of its interactions. Combinations, parallels, relationships, friendships, everything can be charted and diagnosed. You and Mr. Snart make sense, in all aspects.”**

Doubt began to eat at her again. “It’s not that simple.”

**“Isn’t it? You care for him. He cares for you. It seems very simple to me, but then again, I’m a brilliant AI with centuries more experience than you in all matters, including those of the heart, though I do not have a biological one.”**

“Touche, Gideon,” Sara said quietly.

**“You are one of the bravest humans I have ever met, Captain Lance. You fight for everyone else in the world, so why don’t you fight for yourself?”**

“That is...an excellent point.”

**“I know. We are approaching Star City, December 31st.”**

“Thank you.”

Sara steadied herself as they dropped out of the timestream, and appeared back in the warehouse she’d left from a few days earlier. Sara pulled out her phone, then put it back in her pocket. She headed towards the cargo hold, and as she opened the door to the outside, Gideon spoke one last time.

**“Good luck catching your crook, Captain.”**

Sara smiled for the first time in a few days. “Thanks, Gideon.”

She stepped out of the  _ Waverider, _ her path very clear, and several years in the making.

* * *

Leonard laid on the couch, tossing a small item up in the air repeatedly, his phone on the table, waiting for Laurel’s call.

When Sara hadn’t reappeared after three movies, Laurel’s determination had wavered, but only slightly. She had finally agreed, with significant convincing from Mick, to wait at home, though she hadn’t left easily.

“If you have any second thoughts, call me immediately, so I can point out all the flaws in your argument.” Laurel stared at him, Mick standing behind her with a tired, besotted grin. His friend was long gone for the lawyer. “If you try to run, I swear I will have the police on your ass so quickly you won’t even have time to leave this street, let alone the city.”

“Understood,” Leonard said, mildly amused and a little impressed. Alright, significantly impressed.

“He’s got it, Counselor,” Mick said, tugging her arm. It was late, after one in the morning. “And he knows what’ll happen if he tries to leave.”

Mick’s look promised a lot worse than being tossed into jail for a few days. Leonard gave him a look. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Laurel had promised to call the second she heard from Sara or Gideon, so Leonard was waiting, his jacket by the door.

His thoughts had continued to spiral, but Laurel and Mick had a point. Maybe he was allowing himself to be a bit more easily convinced because it was something he wanted, but they’d made good points.

And honestly, he’d never stopped loving Sara. If death, a Time Bureau girlfriend, and a week with her family weren't enough to make him stop, nothing would.

So he’d tell her and -

And she’d either feel the same or not. But at least he’d know. He could move forward with whatever she decided, rather than the two of them staying in this holding pattern, unintentionally hurting one another over miscommunications and stubbornness.

Of course, it was easier to think all of this when he was alone. When Sara was actually in front of him, would he be able to say it? He’d done it once, before he’d died, and though he felt older and braver now, he now knew exactly how much he had to lose.

Death had hurt, as had coming back. But seeing Sara with someone else, regardless of his silent decision to stand by whatever made her happy, had given both of those experiences a run for their money.

He glanced at the table, where the nutcracker still sat, the ornament at its feet, as he hadn’t had a tree here before they left and saw no point in getting one now. At least that was one thing he’d done right. He’d fixed Sara’s relationship with most of the family. Some of them had been lost causes - Adam was useless. Quinn’s reticence might have been because of the called-off engagement, so there was hope for next year. But he’d seen Sara talking with Miranda before they left. She was the ringleader, for better or worse. If she was on Sara’s side, the rest of the cousins would follow, and the aunts and uncles, though unhelpful for the most part, would fall into line with Ruth’s decisions. As Ruth had given Sara a hug, he figured things were looking up for the next Drake holiday.

Emmet had given him a hug. “Hey, at least we weren’t boring.”

“Who would want boring on a vacation?” Leonard had managed to say, even though his own night had been rough. 

Emmet had laughed, patting his shoulder. “I look forward to seeing you next year.”

“Maybe you can teach me more games?” Lucas said hopefully from Emmet’s side.

Leonard had shaken Lucas’s hand, not responding to Emmet’s comment. “Maybe, kid. Merry Christmas.”

Deciding he would go crazy if he stayed in his apartment any longer, Leonard stood, planning on walking down to the shop on the corner and getting something to eat. He didn’t have anything in the fridge except some water and a few of Mick’s beers, that he hadn’t needed to replenish yet. He grabbed his coat, but as he reached for his phone, it rang.

He didn’t even look at the display, snatching it up and lifted it to his ear. “Hello?”

But it wasn’t Laurel’s voice on the line.  _ “Hey, Len.” _

“Sara.” He stood there, torn between running down to the  _ Waverider  _ now or waiting to hear what she had to say first.

_ “Yeah. Um, got a minute?” _

A minute? A century? “Yes.”

_ “Laurel called. Said that you were thinking about taking a...break, from the  _ Waverider _.” _

He closed his eyes, putting emphasis on the past tense. “I was.”

_ “You aren’t now?” _

“No.”

_ “Good,” _ she said, relief obvious in her voice.  _ “That’s good.” _

She was quiet for a moment, and Leonard left his eyes closed to focus on the faint sounds of her breath coming through the phone.

_ “Can I ask why?” _

Leonard took a seat on the couch, staring at the nutcracker. “Thought I needed to get my head on straight.”

_ “And now?” _

He took a breath. “I don’t think time or space is going to change anything.”

Sara went quiet again and he wasn’t able to wait in silence this time.

“Sara, about Christmas,” he started.

_ “Yeah,”  _ she said.  _ “That’s kind of why I was calling.” _ She took in a deep breath. _ “Was any of it real? Or are you just that good at pretending?” _

He stared forward, seeing Sara’s surprise as he introduced himself as her boyfriend, her expression as they woke up together, her appreciation as he defended her to her idiot cousins, her shock when he’d called her the most beautiful woman he’d seen, the feel of her lips as he’d kissed her -

“Everything,” Leonard answered, before he lost his nerve, ignoring the faint break in his voice. “Everything was real, or at least, I wanted it to be.”

He pressed the phone close to his ear, trying to hear anything from the other side. Sara was so quiet.

“What about you?” he finally asked.

_ “I’m not very good at pretending,” _ she answered quietly.

The admission was almost enough for the tension to leave him. “Where are you?”

_ “Here.” _

There was a knock, but not from his front door. From his balcony. Leonard turned in his seat, looking at where Sara Lance stood on his balcony, having very clearly scaled the tree while talking to him.

She was so damn perfect.

Hanging up the phone, Leonard crossed the small apartment, unlocking and opening the door for her as she slid her phone into her pocket.

“Hi,” he said, stepping back so she could come in.

“Hi.” Sara smiled up at him, nervousness still lingering around her eyes.

Leonard reached out and plucked a leaf from her hair, holding it up for her. “I have a front door, you know.”

“You’re not the only one who likes to make an entrance.” She looked around briefly, perhaps checking for Mick, but she caught the nutcracker on the table and smiled, turning her eyes back to him.

They stood there, in a holding pattern, just outside of each other’s reach, should either one of them choose to go for it. Leonard felt like he was barely breathing, staring at Sara.

He’d been so close to her in England, but this step felt far more significant.

Leonard took a small step forward, and Sara mirrored him, her head tilted up toward him, the small smile on her face promising…

Everything he’d hoped for.

Sara kept her eyes on him as she inched a little closer, a small silver chain peeking out from beneath her collar.

“I love you,” she confessed, the words more like a prayer, a promise, an admission she’d been holding on to for too long. “I’ve loved you for years, even when you weren’t here.”

And he knew because they sounded exactly like his. “I’ve loved you for years, even when time had no meaning.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the wrapped object he’d had near him for days, in hopes of this very moment. He passed it over to her, and Sara reluctantly lowered her eyes to the gift.

She unwrapped it, the small pieces of paper falling away quickly to reveal a small, yellow canary.

He saw her smile before she looked back up at him. “Thought you forgot.”

“I don’t forget to steal the things that matter.”

Sara’s smile grew for a moment, then dimmed a little. “I’m sorry.”

He heard it in her voice, that she wasn’t just sorry for Christmas, but everything before then, the four years, the distance, the separation when they could have had this.

“I’m sorry, too,” Leonard admitted. Sorry for being stupid, for not talking, for not telling her, for Ava leaving and him leaving, and everything.

Sara smiled and all of it was gone, under the bridge, in the past, where it mattered, but not right now. She moved closer without dropping her eyes from his.

“So, you gonna steal that kiss again? Or do you need the mistletoe?” she asked, brow arched and leaning towards him nonetheless.

Leonard let out a chuckle, finally feeling like his life was truly beginning, for the first time since his return. He reached up to touch Sara’s cheek, feeling her lean into his palm just a little. He leaned down, hesitating just before, meeting her eyes before closing the distance.

It was nothing like the kiss under the mistletoe. It was nothing like the kiss at the Oculus.

It was slow and deep, everything that they’d said, and everything they hadn’t shared yet. It was raw and perfectly imperfect, because it wasn’t a show or a farce or a ruse, it was just them, Sara and Leonard. The crook and the assassin.

Him and her.

By the time they came up for air, Sara’s arms were around his neck and his were around her waist. She let out a little laugh as she was able to breathe , the smile threatening to split her face.

Leonard pulled her a little closer, dipping down to kiss her again, murmuring against her lips.

“I’ve got everything I need.”

* * *

Laurel’s phone rang and she darted towards it, her hands still wet from cleaning up after lunch. She hesitated, going to wipe it on her pants, but Mick beat her to it, lifting up her phone and putting it on speakerphone.

“Hello?” Laurel said.

_ “Hey,”  _ Sara said.

“Sara, where the hell have you been?” Laurel started. 

_ “I’m at Leonard’s.” _

Laurel looked up to meet Mick’s eyes. He raised his brows, hope starting to bloom on his face.

“Oh?” Laurel said.

_ “We’re just calling to tell you there’s no need to have me arrested,”  _ Leonard’s voice came through, sounding far too smug and happy.  _ “We’ve talked.” _

“And?” Laurel said hopefully.

_ “And we’re good,” _ Sara answered.  _ “Thanks for butting in, we apparently needed it, and that’s all you’re going to get from us.” _

Mick’s grin was wide. “Glad to hear you got your heads out of your asses.”

_ “Thanks,” _ Leonard drawled.

“Wait, so you -” Laurel started.

_ “We’ll see you tonight at Verdant,”  _ Sara said loudly, interrupting her.

“But are you -”

_ “Goodbye!”  _ Sara hung up.

Laurel glared at the phone, but couldn’t help the smile on her face, either. Mick put it back down on the coffee table.

“Way to go, Counselor.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Laurel corrected, wiping her hands on the bottom of her shirt.

He chuckled, looking at her over his shoulder. “They’re going to get annoying on the  _ Waverider.” _

“We’ll have to find a way to deal.” She turned back towards the counter, a few dishes from Mick’s cooking still needing to be cleaned.

“We?”

Laurel paused, glancing back at Mick, who had turned to face her, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Sara said something about a few smaller missions that I could join if that’s okay with you. I’m not quitting my job, but I’d like to travel with you for a while. If it’s not okay or too fast, I could just stay -”

She was interrupted as Mick crossed the space between them, taking her face in his hands and kissing her with far less restraint than he’d ever shown before. Laurel was surprised, but deeply into it, throwing her arms over his wide shoulders.

Mick’s arm went around her as one hand held onto her face like it was the most precious thing in the world. He pulled back just enough to speak.

“You’d really come aboard the  _ Waverider  _ for a while? ‘Cause of me?”

Laurel pressed another kiss to his lips, the disbelief in his voice hitting her deeply. This amazing man, who still didn’t seem to believe that she liked him - cared for him -

“Mick,” she said. Catching his eye was easy, because she was so close. “I love you.”

His eyes slid closed for a moment, either processing or still unsure, Laurel couldn’t tell. So she leaned forward and kissed him again.

“I think I love you, too, Counselor,” he rumbled, the words going straight into her chest.

The world twisted as Mick picked her up like she weighed nothing. “What time does this shindig start tonight?” he asked, starting towards her - their - room.

“We can be late,” Laurel promised, kissing his neck.

“Might take you up on that.”

“I hope you do.”


	13. Auld Lang Syne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise bonus chapter. :)
> 
> Happy New Year.

Oliver Queen prided himself on not being surprised all that easily.

He read every room he walked into, noticing the mood and tone, like here at Verdant, where everyone was already half-way to toasted and it was still only ten o’clock. He did significant research into potential guests and people he’d have to meet with tonight, and the list was extensive with the dance floor packed and the bar crowded. He knew the scene and expectations of the places he’d go, so he’d known that tonight was a higher class party, with the combination of expensive champagne and louder music.

Oliver Queen did not get surprised.

So whatever he felt when Sara walked in with an infamous criminal’s arm around her waist, Oliver wasn’t surprised. Nonplussed, perhaps. Taken aback. But not surprised.

“Yessss,” whispered his fiance from his side.

Oliver looked down at Felicity. “Yes what?”

Her eyes were on Sara and Captain Cold, but her hands were already going to her phone, unlocking it and opening a message without looking. “Barry’s going to owe me money,” she told him.

Oliver read the text over her shoulder:  **Captain Canary is a THING!!!!! I WIN!!!!! SUCK IT SNOW!!!!**

“You know him?” Oliver asked. Sara was looking beautiful in a dark blue dress and Cold - Snart, right? - had deigned to put on a suit that fit him well. The blonde had seen him and the grin on her face widened as she started towards them.

“I know _of_ him,” Felicity explained, her eyes on the emojis filling up her screen - hearts, angry faces, wide eyes - he was getting a headache just looking at them. “He was on the original Legends team, died, and came back, and Barry insisted he had a thing for Sara, which, obviously, duh, but he didn’t think they’d act on it until Valentine’s Day. But I knew -”

She broke off as Sara got within earshot, but from the look on Snart’s face, Oliver wasn’t so sure Felicity hadn’t been understood anyway.

“Sara!” Felicity said, throwing her arms around the blonde. Sara hugged her back tightly as Oliver eyed Snart over the women’s shoulders.

“Mr. Queen,” the criminal greeted, extending his hand.

“Mr. Snart.” Oliver took it, squeezing a bit too hard.

The man smirked slightly, his brow arching up a bit in acknowledgment.

Sara and Felicity broke apart and while Felicity was looking at Oliver with some trepidation, Sara just smiled and leaned back into Leonard’s side.

“What are you doing in Star City, Captain?” Oliver asked, keeping his voice polite.

Snart just grinned a little more. “Attending a party with my girlfriend. How about you, Hood?”

Oliver cut his eyes over to Sara, who shrugged. “I didn’t tell him.”

Snart’s expression grew smug and Oliver did not enjoy this non-surprise at all.

“Barry Allen’s a little too... _ quick,” _ Snart said, “in mentioning names.”

Great. Fantastic.

Oliver opened his mouth, but Sara had apparently had enough. “Enough. Len’s my boyfriend and he won’t rob anyone here tonight.”

Snart’s expression said he wasn’t entirely on board with that plan, and Oliver would have liked a bit more than just ‘anyone  _ here’ _ and ‘tonight,’ but Felicity was giving him a Look.

He still leaned towards Leonard, “If you try anything, I’ll -”

“Deal with me,” Sara cut in again. “I did two tours with the League, wanna go find out who’s stayed in shape?”

Oliver met the fierce gaze of his former lover and partner, then at how Snart’s feet shifted into a fighting stance similar to Sara’s, even as he grinned and moved back a bit, letting Sara take the lead.

“Fine,” he said shortly, and Sara nodded.

“You seen Laurel yet?” she asked, an odd smile appearing on Snart’s face.

“Not yet,” Oliver answered, which was...uncharacteristic. Usually, Laurel was the first one to show at a party, to help prepare and make sure everything was ready to go. He’d almost called to check in on her. Tommy and she had an amicable breakup - as much as these things could be amicable - but he wanted to be sure that Laurel was comfortable with attending.

“Good to see you, Ollie,” Sara said, the smile on her face mimicking her boyfriend’s. Wrapping her hand around Snart’s and giving a wink to Felicity, Sara and the criminal moved their way through the crowd towards the bar. Making a mental note to keep an eye on Snart, Oliver looked down at his fiance.

“At least it wasn’t his partner,” he said quietly, making sure his shoulders were angled away from the couple. Snart almost certainly could read lips. “Heatwave is famous for being far more dangerous and -”

Felicity squeaked, her eyes on something over Oliver’s shoulder.

Oliver braced himself for seeing Snart icing half the crowd and turned.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure what Felicity was saying. Laurel was coming over, smiling, but then Oliver noticed she was holding someone’s hand - a large man, with burn scars on his exposed forearms, and -

He was surprised.

“Hey,” Laurel said, giving the shell-shocked Oliver a hug and an odd look for his non-response, then giving Felicity a hug. “Sorry we’re late.” She glanced up to the man next to her with a besotted grin that Oliver had never seen from her before, not even with Tommy.

“This is my boyfriend, Mick Rory,” Laurel introduced.

“Rory,” Oliver repeated, still a little dumbfounded.

“Yes,” Laurel said, a touch of steel in her voice. “Member of the Legends team, savior of time and all that.”

“Former arsonist and bounty hunter,” Mick added, holding out his hand.

Oliver stared at him for a moment, then blinked and took the man’s hand. Rory didn’t squeeze, didn’t try to hurt his hand in any way. He looked at Felicity, “Good to see you again, Geek Girl.”

“You too,” Felicity said, and Oliver glanced at her. “Aliens, remember?” she told him.

As Oliver looked back to Laurel, he caught sight of Sara and Snart at the bar, watching them with massive grins on their faces. Ah, so this had been a setup. Wonderful.

“Thanks for inviting us,” Laurel said. “I also wanted to mention that I might be taking some more...vacation time.”

Felicity’s eyes went wide.

“Sara’s invited me to join the  _ Waverider  _ for a few short missions,” Laurel said. “And if those go well, maybe I’ll be making some longer trips.”

“Right,” Oliver said slowly.

Mick grinned and Laurel reached out to tangle her fingers with his, as if they’d been doing this for weeks.

“So you and Rory.”

Laurel gave Oliver a look, very similar to the one Felicity had just given him, and he reevaluated his friendship with the Lance sisters for a moment.

“Yes, me and Mick. That going to be a problem?” she asked.

Oliver stared at her, until Felicity cleared her throat next to him.

“N-no. As long as he doesn’t start problems that I’ll have to finish,” he said, recovering a bit.

Mick just chuckled. “Don’t worry, Legolas. I ain’t planning on startin’ trouble here.”

Again, with the ‘here.’ And he was going to have a serious chat with Barry Allen as soon as possible. What was the point of secret identities if everyone knew who he was?

“Have fun,” Oliver finally managed to say.

“We will,” Mick promised and Laurel started tugging him towards the bar, where neither of them ordered a drink, but they chatted with Sara and Snart, the four of them laughing loud enough to become a focal point for some of the other party-goers.

Felicity was back on her phone:  **And CanaryFire is also a THING?!?! Did we even have a pool for that one??**

Oliver looked back at the quartet, where Sara had apparently dragged all of them to the dance floor, where Laurel and Sara were dancing and Snart and Rory were watching, obviously smitten.

A trained, resurrected assassin, dating a world-class thief and resurrected criminal.

The city’s best DA, dating a former (?) arsonist and criminal who knew his name.

The four of them, traveling through time.

_ Together. _

Making a mental note to call Harrison Wells and get the rundown on alternate timelines in the morning, Oliver grabbed a glass of champagne.

Whatever else the next year would bring, at least it wouldn’t be boring.


End file.
